#like you’re not going to tell me that’s just cause of good luck

[coco-loco-nut]

Chasing Desire

pairing: charles x reader

summary: you never meant to fall in love, but you didn’t plan on being in a love triangle with your best friend and his older brother either

a/n: i’ve been writing a lot of charles recently, sorry, but he’s been a part of my rare inspiration lately... also apologies for the novel

masterlist requests open

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“Are you sure you’re the professional driver?” you ask, pulling off your helmet. The smell of gasoline a familiar comfort on the race track.

“I let you win,” Arthur lies.

“And you, Charles?” you look to your best friend’s brother, who is either staring at you or something behind you.

“Um, same thing. You know, being an F1 driver and all,” Charles stutters, snapping out of wherever his mind is.

“Sure, you just can’t admit you lost to a retired driver,” you laugh, letting the race suit drop to your hips.

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder and you feel a sort of butterflies in your chest, the ones that you push away every time.

There is no way you can be crushing on Arthur, your best friend since he returned to karting. You’ve been almost inseparable ever since. You’ve both seen each through hardships. He was there when Prema dropped you when you ran out of funding in F3 last season and no driver academy wanted you. You were there when he was struggling in F2.

“Get away, Thur, you reek,” you gag for added effect.

“I want ice cream. Let’s go get some,” Charles interrupts, causing you to almost jump away.

You clear your throat, looking back at the track. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you agree, almost wanting to disappear back into the locker room.

In the locker room you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Quit it, that’s Arthur, your best friend,” you tell yourself. Ollie always joked that you followed Arthur like a lost puppy, but you never believed him. Well, until now.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks. opening the door to his car for you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” your brows furrow as you take a seat on the cool Italian leather.

“You just seem off,” Charles shrugs, brushing it off when you don’t reply. He looks up into the rearview mirror, silently asking Arthur if he has an idea. A simple shrug from Arthur confirms that he doesn’t know either. Maybe you have an exam coming up? They just don’t know. “So, how’s school?” Charles tries again, getting success when you look up from your phone.

“It’s fine. I’m on track to graduate early, but the job search isn’t great,” you frown, a little hesitant to talk about the last part.

“How? You were an incredible driver, surely that looks good on your resume?” Arthur asks, jumping in before Charles can offer you a job.

“Well, you’d be surprised to know that driving apparently does not really provide direct experience in data science,” you huff, turning your phone off as you cross your arms. It’s hard enough since you started university late.

“Oh! Ferrari is-“

“No,” you and Arthur reply at the same time. The butterflies start to return as you glance out the window.

“It’s called using your resources and network, it’s not like I’m directly getting you a job,” Charles tries to reason.

“As soon as I write your name, they will hire me. I want to be hired on my own merit,”

“But,”

“No buts,” you don’t dare to speak out loud what you want to add. It would crush Charles.

He tried so hard when Arthur revealed you didn’t have funding to get a team to pick you up. He talked to other drives, team principals, engineers, anyone. He had no luck, and when you found out it crushed you. Not only were you not good enough, any offer you would even receive would be because of Charles. From that moment you vowed that every single accomplishment going forward would be of your own merit.

“Ooo, we are here,” Charles cuts the tension, putting the car in park. You’ve never met anyone who loves ice cream more, even when it’s a bit chilly.

“Are you excited to go to Greece?” Arthur asks and you nod, practically feeling the sun on your skin.

“I cannot wait for finals to end and fly out,”

“Where exactly are you going?”

“Mykonos,”

“I’m so jealous,” Arthur groans, thinking about how much nicer it would be.

“I bet, certainly nicer than racing,” you chuckle.

“What is?” Charles turns towards you in the line.

“Greece,” Arthur answers for you. You simply nod, thinking about the white sand beaches.

“Oh, when are you going?” Charles asks. You are a bit thrown off at his prying today, but shrug it off as him not having seen you in a while.

“Before Austria. I’ll fly from Mykonos to Spielberg,” you answer before placing your order.

Charles watches as you chat with Arthur. The bright lights illuminate your smile, a crinkle in the corners of you eyes, and how you look like Arthur holds the world in his hands. You lean into Arthur as he tells you something that must be funny, because your laugh floats through the air. It’s one of those moments where Pascale or Lorenzo would make a comment. One that Charles wishes deep down was about him and how the two of you belong together.

Arthur attends your graduation, sending plenty of pictures to the family group chat and even making a sweet post on Instagram about it. And then you are in Greece, a couple of your girlfriends accompanying you for the first week.

“Hey, how’s day three going?” Arthur asks as soon as you pick up.

“Good, I’m exploring the town right now. What’s up?” you ask. Arthur called earlier in the day then planned, worrying you a little.

“I couldn’t wait to tell you. I got a girlfriend,” Arthur says excitedly. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. “Y/n?” Arthur’s voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Sorry, I was looking at a pastry. That’s great news, I’m so happy for you,” you say, even though you don’t feel like it. Your mind drifts as Arthur tells you about her and something in you shatters a little.

“I’m so sorry,” you pull your phone away from your ear as you bump into someone. “I gotta go, Thur. Call you later,” you quickly hang up, staring into a beautiful pair of brown eyes.

“I’m not,” the man smiles back as you feel your cheeks flush. He stands out against the white buildings that surround you.

“You aren’t?” you brush a stray hair back behind your ear.

“No, not if I get to meet a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he replies smoothly. Your heart doesn’t know what to feel, it went from zero to one hundred very quick.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand. The man takes it and kisses the back.

“Achileas, but my friends call me Achi. You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” he asks.

“Not unless you live in Monaco,” you shake your head, suddenly aware that you are standing in the middle of the street. Achileas notices as well and subtly ushers you towards a cafe.

“Hm, you are a race car driver, no?”

“I was, not anymore. How did you know?” you are shocked, it is rare someone would recognize you.

“Of course I remember the pretty girl who won the sprint race in Monaco. The fans were so excited, it was the first time I paid attention to a non F1 race,” he says, making you feel important. Monaco, your final win in F3, and a home win nonetheless.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m honestly so flattered,” you tilt your head down, trying to hide the blush.

“Can I ask why you don’t race anymore?” he asks after both of you order at a table.

“I, um, ran out of funding. Couldn’t put myself through university and race at the same time. No team wanted to sign me to their driver academy and that was that,” you tell him. It still stings to admit, but you are proud of how far you got.

“I’m sorry. You seemed like a great driver,” Achileas says, putting his hand over yours.

“I still watch my friends race, it’s enough for me. What do you do?”

“I act in the United States,” he smiles, gladly letting you turn the attention to him.

“That’s so cool, what brings you here then?” you follow, curious about the Greek man in front of you.

“Ah, well there’s no point in hiding it. I’m a Prince of Greece. Purely symbolic, my family holds no power, just a title,” he reveals to you, catching you off guard. You expected something simple, like a vacation, not being royal.

“Oh, wow. And you made being a failed driver sound cool,” you quickly recover from your shock. You try to act like you do around Charles, like there is nothing that makes them different from you.

“Hey, it is cool. You probably know a lot of great drivers, including yourself,”

“I mean, yeah. I’m best friends with Arthur Leclerc and I do know Charles pretty well. But that’s no where near the same level as being an actual prince.”

“Let’s agree that they are both equally cool. Can’t be fighting on our first date, no?” His suave smile disarms you, sending your head spinning.

“No,” you agree.

One date slowly turns into dinner the next evening, and breakfast the morning after, to a spending the whole day together.

Charles watches your socials just for a glimpse of you. You post stories of your outings, or you laying on the beach, but Charles assumes that your friends are taking the photos, until the second week.

Arthur’s phone rings shortly after hanging up with you. He begrudgingly answers, not in the mood to speak anymore. “What’s up, Charles?”

“Did you see Y/n’s Instagram post?” Charles asks, trying to sound calm, but it just comes out rushed.

“Yeah, what about it? She’s having a great time,” Arthur sighs. He knows how Charles looks at you protectively, but didn’t realize it was anything other than in a little sister way.

“She’s cuddled up to some guy on the beach. And that guy is a prince. She’s with a prince, Arthur. An actual prince, not in a figurative way like me!”

“Yeah, that’s her boyfriend. They met last week,”

“How do you even compete with that?” Charles exasperates.

“I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Arthur asks, a foreign irritated feeling lacing his voice.

“I lied,” Charles frowns, plotting his next move.

“Just… don’t fuck it up for her. She seems really happy,” Arthur sighs before hanging up.

The sand is soft underneath you as you lay on top of your beach towel. Achi lays beside you, watching you flip the pages of your book. He has a small smile on his face, amused at your facial expressions and how you seem to read faster. He leans in, brushing away a stray hair that you keep trying to blow away, only to startle you out of your trance.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice is soft, watching you mark the page you are on.

“No, it’s okay. I want to spend time with you,” you smile, turning your attention to him. You leave far too soon for your liking, you’d happily stay here.

“Well, I would hope so,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as you shift close to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, content in the moment with you.

“I don’t want to leave,”

“Then stay the summer here with me. Or until you decide what you are doing next,”

“I have to go to Austria, but I could be convinced to return,” a playful smile makes its way to your face as Achileas flips you underneath him, arms on both sides of you.

“Is this convincing enough?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you giggle, tilting your chin up as he leans down to kiss you. It starts slow, teasing yet sincere, turning into a passion that urges you to stay. “Okay,” you whisper as your lips part. You watch his eyes light up, excited that you agreed to stay.

“I can’t wait,” he grins, moving from on top of you.

“I will miss you while I’m away,” you frown slightly. You’ve fallen into a comfort that you never expected. For the first time ever, you haven’t found yourself thinking about Arthur or the crush that has been haunting you.

“I think you will survive, but I could always join you,” you perk up a little. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. I can watch with a professional, and I’m sure I could acquire a pass,” Achileas smiles, mentally planning it all.

“I’d love for you to join me,” you don’t even hesitate.

“Why don’t we head out?” he suggests, standing up and offering you a hand. You take it and quickly pack up. You walk hand in hand through the town, before a sound makes you pause.

“Did you hear that?” you ask, turning towards a small alley.

“It sounded like a meow,” Achi says, letting you search. You find a vibrant orange kitten in distress.

“You poor baby,” your voice is soft as the kitten approaches you. You look up at Achi, eyes asking what to do.

“The kitten seems to need help and it’s all alone. I don’t see an issue with helping it,” he shrugs. You carefully pick the kitten up and hold it to your chest.

“Do you think I could keep it?”

“We can do some research. Let’s get some food for it,”

“It’s a boy,” you smile as you quickly check the kitten’s gender. “I’m going to name you Leo,” Achi is amused and in awe at how tenderly you are caring for the kitten. It’s the greenest possible flag.

You wait outside the store as Achi buys some food for the kitten. As you wait, you send a picture to the group chat you have with Arthur and Charles, telling them that you are trying to adopt the kitten.

The last couple days of your trip is spent planning arraignments for your return and for Achileas to attend the race with you. Leo is staying at the vet, receiving treatment then getting neutered so you can officially adopt him.

“Arthur!” you wave, practically dragging your boyfriend through the paddock in search of the Leclercs. You find them talking to Pierre near the Alpine garage.

“Y/n! You look great, the sun treated you well,” Arthur hugs you tight.

“The sun isn’t the only thing that treated me well. This is Achileas, my boyfriend. Achileas, this is my best friend, Arthur,” you introduce them.

“You really need to cool it on the death glare,” Pierre tells Charles who is looking between you and the tall Greek man behind you. The sun-kissed glow of your skin makes Charles fall harder, and your closeness to Achileas makes him want to puke.

“What death glare? I’m not jealous,” Charles says defensively.

“You are literally in love with your brothers best friend. You hate her boyfriend without ever having met him. You adopted a dog two days ago and named it after her kitten that she rescued the day before. But you aren’t jealous?” Pierre raises an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Charles trails off, looking at the way you lean into Achileas’ touch, his arm securely around your waist as if it was meant to be there.

“It’s funny, she always followed Arthur around like a lost puppy. I always assumed they would get together once they figured out they liked eachother, but now they are dating different people,” Pierre continues, not being a help to Charles’ mental health.

“That’s not true, he doesn’t like her like that,”

“That you know of. Just like how he didn’t know you like his best friend until recently,” Pierre continues.

“Charles, come say hi to your guest,” Arthur calls his brother over.

“I missed you,” Charles wraps his arms around you, holding the hug for a second longer than normal. You are thrown off by it all. Charles has never said something like that before, and what gives him the right to hug you that long.

“Yeah,” you pat his back awkwardly as he lets go. “Meet my boyfriend, Achileas,” you step back so they can shake hands.

“Charles Leclerc, I race for Ferrari,” Charles puffs his chest slightly, trying to intimidate but he just comes off like an asshole. Pierre and Arthur do their best to avoid rolling their eyes.

“I’m going to go say hi to Pierre,” you are clearly thrown off a little by Charles, but allow them to interrogate your boyfriend while you speak to the Frenchman.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“No idea. Probably just trying to get a read on your Greek warrior,” Pierre shrugs, keeping Charles secrets even if he would normally gossip with you.

“He is isn’t he?” you look dreamily at your boyfriend, who seems to need saving.

“Sure. I’ll see you later,” Pierre leaves, having a job to do.

“Should I be worried?” Achileas asks as soon as the two of you are out of earshot, well you think you are.

“About who?”

“Charles,”

“Not at all, I don’t get what girls see in him, but maybe that’s from growing up with him.” You shrug. Your mind briefly drifts to how weird Charles was acting. Does he not want to be your friend anymore? Why was he so standoffish to Achileas. Meanwhile, Charles feels a stab in his heart at your words. Maybe he never did stand a chance.

“Sorry to cut in, but I need to do my best friend duties. You can meet us back at Ferrari,” Arthur says, pulling your boyfriend away from you. You are left with Charles and Pierre, who just stare back at you.

“Well, I have a team meeting and this feels awkward, so I’m gonna go,” Pierre disappears into the garage. You stand in the awkward silence for a minute before turning to walk back to Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n, wait,” you feel a gentle tug as your arm as Charles catches up with you. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed as you barely meet his eyes.

“I get this feeling that you don’t like my boyfriend. Why?” you ask, watching Charles fumble for his words. “If you can’t be happy for me like Arthur is, and like I am for Arthur, I don’t know if we can be friends.”

“No, no, I am happy for you. I just didn’t expect to see him here,” Charles lies, not wanting to ruin anything. He feels like he’s barely hanging on to your relationship.

“Well you certainly aren’t acting like it,” you frown. Charles reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You jerk, quickly stepping out of the small embrace. “What are you doing?”

“I- well, I, um,“ Charles stutters, confused at your coldness. “I was going to give you a hug and apologize,” he watches your eyes narrow before there is a shift of resolve.

“Just, don’t be weird,” you shake your head. The walk back is silent. Charles looks at you oddly, a mix of concern and confusion.

He keeps a bit of distance the rest of the weekend, watching you explain different aspects of racing. Arthur expressed his approval, making things somehow worse for Charles.

“Cha,” you call him over to you on his way to the garage before the race.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted to say good luck. I hope you win,” your smile brings a sense of normalcy, like the two of you haven’t spend the weekend carefully avoiding each other. The concern on Charles’ face melts into something softer.

“Thank you, ma ch��rie,” he opens his arms slightly, subtly inviting you to hug him. You lean in, wrapping your arms around him. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms. Charles resists the urge to happily sigh, relieved that the standoff is over.

It’s just what he needs to win the race, but before he can invite you to the after party, you are gone. Back to Greece with your lover, the Prince who stole you away before Charles had the nerve to say something.

Charles doesn’t see you again until just before Monza. He knocks on your and Arthur’s apartment door, delivering some frozen meals from Pasquale for Arthur. You open the door, hair slightly disheveled, messy mascara, tanned skin from the Greek sun, and a pullover that barely covers your shorts. You’ve never looked so perfect.

Charles opens his mouth to speak, but the tears start flowing. He steps inside behind you, following you to the living room after making a quick detour to shove the food in your freezer. You haven’t been back for long based on the lack of food in the fridge and the lack of your decoration.

Charles sits beside you on the couch, conscious of his actions. Your cat, Leo, sits on the other side of you. He looks around the living room, a framed photo of you and Arthur on a podium hanging beside other individual pictures or pictures of the two of you. Some of your trophies are mixed with Arthur’s, showcasing your achievements.

“Cherie, what happened?” Charles gentle voice cuts through the silence.

“He left. He’s going back to America,” you hold back sobs, the more you speak it, the more real it becomes. You had numbly backed your bags and flew back to Monaco, ignoring the apologies from the man who broke your heart. “I should’ve known he’d drop me as soon as the summer ended,” you tilt your head back in an effort to stop your tears. You never want to cry over a man again.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles whispers, unsure of what to say. You feel anger bubbling up, slowly replacing your sadness.

“God, I paused my whole life for him. I should be starting a job right now, learning how to adult. Instead I wasted my whole summer on white sand beaches and false promises,” your words are venomous, rather than sorrowful. It scares Charles a little bit, he’s seen you angry before, but not like this. Your eyes meet his, betraying your words. He sees the deep hurt and sorrow that they hold and wants nothing more to heal it.

“How long have you been home?” Charles asks, not noticing you subconsciously shifting closer.

“A few days,” your tone shifts, as you take a shaky breath in an attempt to level yourself.

“Y/n, I’m home, dinner is in the kitchen if you want anything,” Arthur calls out as he enters the apartment. He stops abruptly when he notices you on the couch. “You’re alive, and Charles is here.”

“I am here, Maman sent me with meals for you,” Charles says, taking the attention off of you.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you leave your room since you got home?” Arthur stares at you, analyzing any move you make.

“I’m okay,” your voice is hoarser than you intended, a small crack cuts through your words.

“I gotta shower, but we are talking later,” Arthur nods, disappearing into his room.

“You haven’t left your room?” Charles turns back to you.

“I think you know that answer,” you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“If I offered to help, would you take it?” Charles’ mouth is moving faster than his brain as he thinks of ways to help you.

“Maybe,”

“I need some help with the data. There’s a chance for the team to win the constructors championship and for me to take second in the drivers is everything works out right,” Charles trails off a little, gauging your reaction.

“I don’t want a job because you feel sorry for me,” your voice is firm causing Charles to panic a little.

“It isn’t, I promise. Why don’t you come to Monza and do a test run? See if you like it and if you do I will hire you,” Charles offers, watching the wheels turn in your brain. “I know you feel like you wasted your summer, so I’ll give you a good bonus if I win one race,” his words seal the deal for you. It goes against everything you have said before regarding jobs, but you can’t lie and say that the job won’t be beneficial.

“One test run, then I will give you my answer,” you confirm, watching Charles light up a little.

“Great, I’ll talk to Ferrari and work everything out. We leave for Monza tomorrow.”

Charles picks you and Arthur up early the next morning, bringing with him a Ferrari team polo and folder.

“All the essential data for you to get familiar with, according to the team at least. We will get your Paddock Pass in Monza,” Charles explains. You get to work in the car, looking over the data and using your computer to analyze it further.

“This is Emilia, she will be showing you around and telling you about the data team while I do media,” Charles hands you off to the girl who isn’t much older than you.

“You are a very strong racer,” she says at the end of your tour and training, catching you off guard. “Of course I looked you up when Charles insisted that he has his own data analyst, Ferrari kept tabs on you,” her comment is enough to make you stop.

“They did?”

“Yes, your data is impressive. I can show you the file,” she offers. All it takes is a head nod and you are being shown a file you never thought existed. You read the comments, doing your best to keep a neutral face in the dim room. Fast driver, high ceiling, not enough sponsors. The three phrases that sustained and killed your career accompany the numbers. It almost hurts knowing that teams did see your potential, but didn’t choose you because of money.

“Wow,” you whisper, scanning the page over and over again. You had looked at your racing data for various school projects, but it is different with the team commentary.

“Time for a track walk,” Charles pops his head in, breaking you out of your trance. You whisper a quick thanks before running out after Charles.

You stay busy all weekend, working out different strategies and areas for Charles to improve. It does pay off as you watch Charles bring home the win. Arthur insists you join at the parc ferme to celebrate. Charles hugs Arthur first before turning to you.

“I think this is a strong start to your career,” he quickly hugs you before moving down the line. You can see your new resume line now: assisted Formula One driver in winning during first weekend on team. So you do take the job, you would be crazy not to.

Ferrari hires you through the end of the season. Charles is thrilled. He likes the idea of being your white knight, mending your broken heart one race at a time. He watches you open up more and your relationship strengthens.

You do your best Elvis impression as you enter the paddock on race day with Charles. “Viva Las Vegas,” you sing with an exaggerated vibrato. Charles tries to contain his laughter as Max approaches.

“They had no need to hire Elvis impersonators this year, Ferrari has one on staff already,” he teases. You bonded over your cats, and cat Leo and dog Leo have had play dates with Jimmy and Sassy.

“Shut up,” you laugh. This is the version of you the Charles has been waiting to see again. “Oh shit,” your demeanor changes as you try to hide behind Max and Charles. Charles follows your line of sight to the man talking to someone across the paddock. Max looks confused, but notes how Charles wraps an arm protectively around you.

“I can get someone to kick him out,”

“That’s a bit extreme,”

“I have no idea who you are talking about, but I’ll do it,” Max offers, earning a slight smile from you before it deepens to a frown again.

“Getting broken up with is hardly a reason to kick him out unless he is actually bothering me,” you shrink slightly into Charles, who quickens his pace a little.

“That’s Leo’s dad? Let me at him,” Max is jumping at the chance to punch someone, a lot of pent up energy from conflicts this season. Max may be a sweetheart most of the time when he isn’t racing, but he was raised by Jos.

“Can we just go to hospitality? There’s nothing that an espresso and showing security his picture can’t fix,” you suggest. Max pouts, knowing you are right. Charles gives Max a look, one that tells Max to shut up before he hurts the situation.

“Well, I gotta go. Future World Champion stuff,” Max says, walking away. He does end up confronting Achileas, but he doesn’t say anything out it, and Achileas is too scared to reveal what was said.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks as you sip your espresso.

“Surprisingly, yes. I freaked out a bit at first, but he’s in my space. He’s the one who should be insecure,” you state, making Charles proud at how far you’ve come in two months.

“I’m proud of you. I know that whatever you do after the season you are going to excel,” the words are reassuring and you feel a warmth in your heart. The same kind that you used to feel for Arthur. It’s like you are seeing Charles in a different light than you had before. Charles silently watches you stare at him, stuck in your own head, before you look away at whatever is on the TV behind him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, thank you for bringing me on,” you thank him. The mood is heavy, keeping both of you silent, not wanting to break the odd silence. “I’m going to grab some food, I’ll need it if we go to Max’s after party,” you abruptly say, standing up and leaving. Your phone and coffee remain on the table, so Charles doesn’t bother getting up. You return with two plates, setting one down in front of him. “I got your meal, you need to eat now so you have energy for the race. The window is closing,” you motion to the food with your fork.

“Thanks. You’ve been a great support too, by the way. I don’t think I would’ve done as well without you,” Charles smiles over his glass of water.

After the meal you disappear to find Emilia and work on data. You don’t see each other until your quick meeting on your findings and final race suggestions.

“Have you thought about joining the team full time?” Emilia asks as the race starts. There is a flicker of hope in your chest. Maybe Charles was right, the job can further your career. “There’s an opening working with the driver academy team. I’ll put in a recommendation for you if you want it,” she explains.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you are a bit speechless, excited about the opportunity.

“Great, I’ll send you the application information,” she says before turning back to her work. You refocus on the live data, making notes of where Charles can improve to send to his race engineer.

Charles barely misses the podium so you go back to the team hotel with Emilia, waiting on the text from Charles saying that he’s leaving for the club. Max already sent you the invite, but you don’t want to show up alone. You do end up showing up alone though, having made it to the club before Charles did. You beeline to the bar, needing to take a shot before you even touch the dance floor.

“A shot without me? Come on we are doing another round,” Max approaches you, scaring you a bit as you set down the empty shot glass. Two shots are quickly placed in front of you.

“To the four time champion of the world,” you toast.

“To being cat parents,” he toasts back before you quickly down the shot.

“It’s rude to exclude friends from the round,” Charles cuts in. His slightly unbuttoned top shows a daring amount of skin and for once his pants have a normal fit. You head spins and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or Charles. You quickly look away and back at the bartender who was beaconed by Max.

“Three more,” you yell over the music.

“I don’t have a toast for this,” Max says as he picks the shot up, both of you looking to Charles.

“If the ocean was beer and I was a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and drink my way up. But the ocean isn’t beer and I’m not a duck, so let’s take these shots and get fucked up,” Charles says proudly. You take the shot before giggling at the silliness of the toast.

“Where did you learn that?” you ask, feeling the alcohol punch you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Charles smiles and you head spins again. You nod and wander to the dance floor, needing to separate yourself from him for a moment.

“Is she okay?” Max asks, watching you get lost in deep thought.

“I’m not sure. I think she’s finally had a chance to heal from the summer,” Charles pauses, unsure of how much to say. “She’s had a crush on Arthur for years, then he started dating his girlfriend, and she met her ex soon after. She’s finally returned to a healed state and now something is off again,” Charles tells Max a bit of what he’s observed from you. Max looks at how Charles is watching you, a mix of concern and admiration.

“She deserves to let loose,” Max says before going to meet other guests. Charles orders two more drinks, taking one to you.

“For me?” you gasp, eagerly taking a cup from his hands.

“Of course,” Charles notices how your navy dress clings to your body, dangerously revealing.

“Let’s dance,” your words slur as you grab onto Charles’ hand.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Charles starts, feeling like he should draw a boundary before things get messy.

“Please, Charlie,” you pout, it’s enough for Charles to give in. Your dancing remains relatively PG, that is until Carlos delivers two more drinks. Turns out that what Charles assumed was you texting Arthur, was you asking Carlos to be your delivery man. Halfway through your drink, you body drifts closer to Charles. There is a look in your eyes, one that used to be reserved for Arthur, one that was never given to Achileas.

“Y/n,” he says softly, trying to see if this is really what you want to be doing. If you told the Charles from a year ago that this was happening, he wouldn’t believe you. You brush against him, body swaying to the beat. Charles wraps an arm around you, done fighting it.

Lost in an alcohol haze, time seems nonexistent as the lights flash around you. Your drinks are long finished, taken away by a bouncer a few songs ago. There’s something natural about it, but it makes you feel guilty. You always assumed you and Arthur were meant to be, you never even thought of Charles in anyway but Arthur’s older brother. When did it change?

You look up to find Charles looking back at you. Your lips are slightly parted as your mind scrambles to find the words, the music spinning you further. Charles takes a risk, pulling you slightly closer. Your head tilts up slightly and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss you. Your body seems to freeze and melt at the same time, giving in to what’s happening. It’s everything Charles has waited for and more. The years of waiting were worth every moment.

“Charles,” your voice sounds like a whisper as your lips part, a desperation in his name.

“Just say no and I won’t kiss you again,” his voice is low in your ear, but you can’t find it in you to say no. Your hands travel up to his neck, pulling him back to you. Something clicks, everything in the past few months has worked towards this moment. He was there for you at your lowest, and Charles helped you be yourself again.

“I’m going to get us another round,” Charles says against your lips, leaving you in a daze.

“Y/n,” a voice says from behind you, catching your attention.

“Back already, Cha- what are you doing here?” your mood is immediately soured.

“Celebrating, just like you. I was invited,” the greek man hasn’t changed since he made you leave.

“Were you? How do you know Max?” you are skeptical, rightfully so. His only connection to Formula One was you.

“My friend works with the team. I thought I wasn’t supposed to worry about him,” Achileas nods his head back to the bar, causing your cheeks to flush at the thought of the older Monegasque.

“I thought you actually liked me. It seems we were both wrong,” you shake your head slightly, clearing Charles from your mind. Any drunkenness feels like it’s been washed away with a sharp splash of cold water.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You know you miss me,” he steps closer, trapping you in the crowd of strangers. Your eyes dart around the dance floor, looking for Carlos or Max, anyone who you know really.

“I don’t. You never even asked about our cat. Why would you care about me?” your eyes narrow, trying to mask your nerves with a false bravado.

“I know you and your body so well. Come back with me to my hotel and let me remind you,” he steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. You freeze, not wanting to cause a scene but needing to escape.

“That fucker, I told him to stay away from her,” Max growls, noticing before Charles does since he is chatting with the bartender.

“Who?”

“Y/n’s ex, that greek guy,” Max makes a move to confront him, but Charles is already pushing towards you. Max hands back, waiting for the drinks. Who would he be to let alcohol go to waster if Charles has it handled.

“Back away from her before I make you,” Charles inserts himself between the two of you, shielding you behind him.

“What is your problem? You just had to get with her as soon as we took a break?” Achileas’ words only make you and Charles more mad.

“I respected your relationship the whole time, and when you broke her heart I helped her fix it. You have no right to be here and to make Y/n uncomfortable,” Charles says, knowing that you are one comment away from snapping.

“So you jumped on the opportunity to get with her? Just so you know, she really likes it when you-“

“I am an adult and can make my own choices. Charles has been a good friend for years and showed me his true colors since I returned to Monaco. You showed me your true colors when you dropped me like I was nothing and now you think you can waltz back in,” you step around Charles, who gently pulls you back into his chest before you get physical. Max approaches, accompanied by a bouncer.

“I warned you to stay away. It’s been fun watching you absolutely fail, but I think it’s time you leave. I don’t even know you,” Max lets the bouncer grab Achileas, the three of you watch as he is thrown out onto the street. “Good riddance,” Max huffs, handing you the second drink. It’s a miracle that no one else around you was paying attention.

“Thank you,” you look at max who looks both concerned and angry.

“What an asshole,” Charles shakes his head, free arm lightly holding you against him.

“I thought princes were supposed to be white knights,” Max says amused at his own thought.

“He’s not a real prince anyway,” your laugh is bitter, annoyed that you wasted your time on a pretty smile who wanted free devotion without returning it.

“I am though,” Charles smiles proudly.

“Sure you are. Prince of Monaco and King of Monza,” Max does his best interpretation of F1 commentary and their nicknames for the Monegasque. You feel the exhaustion of the night and its excitement hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I think I’m going to head out, the Ferrari flight leaves early tomorrow and I don’t think I’m in much of a celebration mood anymore. Congrats again, Max,” you step out of Charles’ embrace to give a quick hug to the Dutchman.

“I’ll go with you, just in case he’s waiting,” Charles says quickly, knowing he will just be worried if he lets you go alone. Arthur would kill him too. Arthur. That’s a discussion the two of you need to have.

“Thank you for being here. There is a seat on my jet for you if you oversleep or don’t sleep at all,” Max winks, leaving you and Charles.

“Want to order room service? I think we have some things to talk about,” Charles asks, guiding you towards his hotel.

“I could eat,” you nod.

As soon as you sit on his bed, another wave of exhaustion hits you. Charles digs through his suitcase, searching for something.

“Here, I doubt you want to stay in that dress,” Charles tries not to think about taking the dress off of you as he hands you a shirt and basketball shorts.

“Thanks,” you disappear into the bathroom to change and remove the bit of makeup you had time to do.

“What do you want to order?”

“We need to walk about what this is,” you answer, food pushed to the back of your mind as you sit on the bed. Charles sets the menu down, leaning against the headboard on top of the crisp white sheets. The city is visible outside the windows, but the curtains are drawn to block out the lights.

“I don’t want to force you into anything. I’ve liked you for a long time and that won’t change,” Charles states plainly, laying it out there.

“I want to take it slow. The last time I jumped into something it didn’t end well. As evidenced by tonight,” you pause, mulling over your next words. “What do we tell Arthur?” you frown, thinking of your best friend as Charles pulls you close.

“The truth. Something sparked tonight and we are taking it slow. If we hide it he may never forgive us.”

“You know, I always thought I would end up with Arthur,” you chuckle.

“Everyone did. I am glad that has changed now, I hated the thought of you two together and the way you used to look at him. I always wanted you to look at me that way, and you did tonight,” Charles says, his head dipping lower as he speaks, wanting to capture your lips in a kiss.

When he pulls away to turn off the bedside lamp, you get cozy in bed, quickly falling asleep. Charles doesn’t dare disturb you, instead he plugs your phone into a spare charger and texts Emilia to coordinate picking up your luggage in the morning before going to sleep as well.

You wake up to the early morning sun streaming through the window, panic coursing through you as you realize it isn’t your hotel room. You barely register that Charles is beside you as you look around for your phone. You do a double take once it registers in your mind, bits and pieces of the night before coming back to you.

“Morning,” Charles groans slightly, reaching out to pull you in for a cuddle.

“I missed the flight, how am I going to get my things,” you panic, not understanding how Charles is being so calm about it.

“I picked it up this morning, you are flying with Max and I to Qatar,” Charles murmurs sleepily into your shoulder, messy brown hair falling onto your skin.

“I’m so confused,” you settle a bit, letting yourself relax into the bed and Charles’ arms again. “Oh my god, we didn’t?”

“No, you were asleep quickly and I wouldn’t do that when drunk,” Charles says softly, just wanting to go back to sleep. He pulls you closer, like he’s been waiting his whole life to wake up next to you, savoring the moment.

“Thanks,” you whisper, exhaustion hitting you again.

Charles doesn’t reply, gently nuzzling against your neck as his breathing evens out. You take it as a sign and close your eyes.

You wake up a couple hours later to Charles’ alarm going off. You turn your body to face him, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Good morning,” you whisper, voice slightly raspy. Charles hums, wrapping an arm around you after turning off the alarm.

“Did you sleep well?” Charles asks eventually.

“It’s much better than the hotel rooms I normally stay in with the team,” you reply, not mentioning the added bonus of sleeping next to him.

“I could get used to sleeping beside you, waking up to this every morning,” the room falls into a comfortable silence, just the sound of your breathing filling the space before you decide to address the elephant in the room.

“When are we telling Arthur?” you ask, massing to mentally prepare yourself.

“He will probably call me in an hour. We should tell him then, but we should also talk about last night,” Charles sits up a little.

“I don’t regret any of it. I feel like I stumbled into the opportunity, but it feels right,” you reply quickly, not wanting to leave room for any doubts.

“I’m glad, because I’ve liked you for a long time,” your heart flutters at his smile. You feel like a school girl who will blush at the slightest glance your way.

“I, um, need to shower,” you quickly disappear to the bathroom with your suitcase.

“Fuck,” Charles says under his breath, resting his head on the headboard. There’s no way he fucked it up already. With the water running softly in the background, he orders breakfast to be delivered.

You step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing an oversized shirt you stole from Charles a couple races ago and shorts. Charles has his back you to you, messing with a tray.

“Cherie, breakfast is here,” Charles gently calls out, not realizing you are behind him.

“What did you get?” you peek around him, looking at the modest spread. Some breakfast pastries and two mugs of coffee are resting on the desk. Charles jumps slightly, not expecting you so quickly.

“Your hair is soaked,” Charles laughs as the ends tickles his neck, dampening the collar of his cotton shirt.

“I wonder why,” you tease, tentatively pressing a kiss to his cheek as you reach around him, taking a cup of coffee. Charles turns toward you, pulling you closer for a proper kiss.

Your phone buzzes on the table beside the bed, making you pull away. You carefully rush to grab it, coffee splashing on to your hand a bit despite your efforts.

“It’s Arthur,” you turn to Charles, setting down the coffee before pulling your phone off the charger. Sitting on the plush white bed, you swipe, accepting the video call.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the airport,” Arthur asks, his phone shaking as he finds a spot to sit down.

“I am flying Air Max,” you smile, leaning against the headboard. You catch Charles trying to silently stand up from the table and walk towards the bathroom so you could have privacy.

“Fuck,” Charles whisper-yells, accidentally kicking the table leg.

“Is that Charles?” Charles’ eyes widen as he stares at your phone.

“Yeah, I crashed here after Max’s party. Some stuff went down and I didn’t want to be alone,” you want to trauma dump, but now isn’t the right time. Charles sits beside you out of the frame, gently rubbing circles into your leg.

“What happened?” You sneak a look at Charles, silently asking for confirmation that he was ok with you telling Arthur everything.

“I was getting closer with Charles, who says hello by the way,” Charles pinches your thigh, making you try not to smack his hand away. “We, um, kissed, then out of no where Achileas showed up. I had it handled but Max and Charles helped put him in his place,” You power through the mental blocks that tell you that Arthur doesn’t need to know everything. He will find out eventually, why lie now?

“I saw a video and thought it was you two, thank you for being honest,” Arther swallows any bit of hurt. He has a girlfriend, why is he borderline jealous of his brother. Years ago you told a friend that if you couldn’t have Arthur, you wouldn’t date a Leclerc at all. Arthur doesn’t know what made it change or why he found comfort in it.

“You aren’t mad?” Charles appears in the camera frame, looking happier and more relaxed than normal.

“No, of course not. If you guys are happy, then I am too,” Arthur isn’t looking at the screen anymore. “I always knew you’d be a Leclerc,” Arthur watches your smile widen, your head tilted toward Charles almost resting on his shoulder.

“We are taking things slow, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” your light laugh is music to both boys ears. Arthur’s stomach twists as he plasters a fake smile.

“Well, I need to go get groceries. I’ll talk to both of you after your flight. Bye,” Arthur quickly hangs up. You set your phone down on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief at how well the call went.

“So can I officially call you mine?” Charles asks, needing to put a label on it even if you are taking it slow in other areas of the relationship.

“I usually make a guy take me on a date first, but I think I’ll make an exception,”

“Good,”

“Even if it’s for a guy who named his dog after my cat.”

[youngyoo-apologist]

OG!Cale drawings, I love this guy.

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[messylustt]

can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him

wait shut up. this is adorable :((

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ a hug? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.

contents : fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.

pt one pt two pt three

“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.

“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.

“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.

“i think she already knows.” miles says.

“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.

“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.

“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”

miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.

“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.

“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”

“i’m not moody.”

“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”

miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.

“but you wanna know what will help?”

“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.

“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”

“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.

“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”

miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.

from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.

“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.

“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.

“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.

miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.

“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.

;;

later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?

you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.

you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”

you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”

“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.

“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”

“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”

“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”

miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.

you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”

miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”

“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”

“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.

at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.

miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.

and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.

now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.

so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.

you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.

he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.

he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.

he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.

;;

you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.

it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.

you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.

he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.

“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.

peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”

because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.

you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.

you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.

so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.

gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.

you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.

so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.

but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.

shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.

yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[formulawolff]

"my hero" - m.v.

pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen

word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!

"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""

a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"

he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.

max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.

his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.

yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.

"tired. very fucking tired."

"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"

he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"

"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"

"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."

"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."

"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."

"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."

"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."

"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.

i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."

"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"

"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."

“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”

“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”

“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”

you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”

“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”

“counting down the minutes are we?”

“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”

at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.

if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.

if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.

if only.

“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.

yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.

“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”

“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“

“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”

“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”

“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”

“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”

“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”

“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”

“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”

“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”

“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”

“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”

“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”

“night, night, baby.”

as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.

the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.

as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.

one day this would all be worth it.

and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.

every single day for the rest of his life.

[earthchica]

the sweetest taboo

cowboy! terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry don't get along, but you have to run a whole farm together. Terry is tired of your behavior and shows you who's boss.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), slight brat, teasing banter, arguing, foul language, choking, size kink, daddy kink, rough spanking, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, nicknames (baby, baby girl, lil mama, sweetheart) words (5k)

note: this has been in drafts for a while, and I decided to post it, I hope you enjoyed it. let me know what you think?

-

For five months, you have been managing the 9 acres of farmland in Louisiana that your nana left you. Your dedication to preserving the family business meant collaborating with the Richmond family, who share ownership of half the land.

Troy and Yvette Richmond were close friends of your nana and had worked alongside her for ten years. You had no issues with Mr. and Mrs. Richmond; they were kind and welcoming people. However, their son, Terry Richmond, was another story.

Terry had a skill for getting under your skin and was quite infuriating. You settled down on the weathered porch, the sun starting to dip low in the Louisiana sky, casting a warm glow over everything.

A gentle breeze stirred the grass, and the homemade lemonade's sweet, tangy taste was an incredible relief after a long day of working the land.

You leaned back in your chair, stealing a moment of quiet with your friend, Jenna, who was sipping her own glass and watching the fields.

“Jen, I swear, I just can’t stand Terry,” you started, rolling your eyes as you took a long sip of lemonade. “It’s like he thinks he runs the whole damn farm.”

Jenna chuckled, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You mean you don’t like how he makes you feel? ‘Cause let’s be real, he’s fine as hell.”

“Fine?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively, though you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your stomach. “That man might be easy on the eyes, but that doesn't mean I gotta put up with his nonsense.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Jenna smirked, taking another sip. “We both know you kinda like it when he gets under that skin of yours. Just admit it, you like him!”

Before you could respond, you spotted Terry riding up on his horse, the sun glinting off his cowboy hat. He was wearing a tank top that highlighted his big, muscular arms, wear-out jeans, and boots.

Terry swung off the saddle, hooked his horse, and marched up the stairs with a self-assured grin. “Hey there, you two. Y’all need to get back to work,” he called out.

His tone is too bossy for your liking. “Oh, look who it is,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. Jenna quickly drained her glass and shot you a look as if to say, “Good luck with that.”

“Where you think you goin’, Jenna?” you called out, but she was already making her way inside, leaving you to face Terry alone. You shook your head, standing up to meet his gaze.

“Excuse you, Terry? I don’t need any directions from you.” You said with a slight smile, and Terry crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if he had found your annoyance amusing.

“Somebody’s gotta keep things in line, and it sure ain’t gonna be you. You think this farm runs itself?.” Terry asked with a chuckle. You stepped closer, refusing to back down.

“You think you cause just own half the land? Can you tell me what to do? Newsflash, Terry, we’re equal partners here. Don’t you forget that?”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Equal, huh? Are you sure about that? ‘Cause every time I turn around, it seems like you’re floundering—”

“Oh, Terry, don’t you dare! Do you think you’re the only one who knows hard work? I put in just as many hours as you do.” You said, poking his chest as the tension hung heavy between you two,

Neither of you was willing to let it go. Beneath the surface, something else simmered. The way he stood tall and unyielding created a heat that wasn’t just from frustration.

“You right, I'll give you that,” Terry said finally, his voice lowering as he stepped closer, his stomach almost touching your breasts. “But it’d be easier if you learned to be a little nicer.”

“Nicer? What?..to you?” You shot back, barely holding back a chuckle. “Oh, sugar no..” With the sun setting behind him, the glow made him look almost ethereal, but you pushed that thought aside.

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Okay, if you won’t be nicer, I’ll just have to make you.” You stared defiantly up at Terry, feeling the tension thicken between you.

“I’m not scared of you, Terry. You can’t make me do nothin’,” you shot back, your voice steady. Terry chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you really think imma about to let you talk to me any kinda way? You got it twisted, girl.” Terry said, and you held your ground, refusing to look away.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting some handsome cowboy who thinks he knows everything intimidate me.” You said that without thinking and felt embarrassed.

"Oh....you think I'm handsome, huh?" Terry asked, towering over you like a giant, and for a moment, the whole world faded out, leaving just the two of you standing there.

Your heart began to race at the proximity, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he would close that distance in a way you hadn’t expected. Was he gonna kiss you?

You fought the urge to let anticipation twirl around your stomach, but just as quickly as he leaned in, he pulled back with a smirk as a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I guess I'll get back to you on that one!" Terry turned on his heel and walked inside the house, leaving you breathless and baffled on the porch.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching him disappear inside. You needed to distance yourself. “Ugh!” you groaned, shaking your head to clear your mind.

You hopped off the porch and went to the stables to check on the horses. The familiar scent of hay does little to ground you. Once there, you grabbed a brush and approached your horse, Luna.

Luna nickered softly at your arrival. “Hey girl, it’s just us now,” you murmured, burying your frustrations in the rhythm of brushing her sleek black coat.

Each stroke helped to distract you from the memory of Terry’s smirk and those tense moments shared just moments ago. “Can you believe him? So infuriatin’,” you muttered.

Luna nudged you with her nose as if to soothe your frustrations. “Terry thinks he can just walk around here, looking fine as hell, and boss you around. Not gonna happen.”

Your mind wondered why you didn't get along with him. He was hardworking, helpful, sweet, and sexy as hell and his presence, the way he carried himself.

Perhaps it's the constant teasing and making fun of how you run things, but you knew it was never in a mean way, though you always had to take it there.

The soft whinny from your horse snapped you back, and you focused on brushing, willing your heart to stop racing every time you replayed that moment.

After a while, with the last of Luna’s coat shining, you leaned against her, closing your eyes and letting the calm wash over you. “I just need to get my head straight,” you whispered.

-

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, you and Terry joined the other workers in wrapping up the day’s chores.

The golden light danced over everything, giving the fields a warm glow as the crickets began their nightly serenade. “Y’all done with them fence posts?” you shouted across the yard, wiping the sweat from your brow.

Terry leaned against a post, arms crossed and that familiar smirk on his face. “Yeah, we finished that up already,” Terry replied, his voice smooth like the whiskey you knew he favored.

After all the hard work, everyone slowly filtered out, heading home as the stars twinkled. You mused on it while cleaning up, the warm evening air settling around you.

That night, you found yourself curled in your cozy bedroom, buried beneath a blanket and lost in the pages of an erotic romance novel, the kind that swept you away from the mundane.

Your heart fluttered as you imagined yourself in the book—passionate, adventurous, and right there alongside a beautiful black man, a cowboy with light, greyish eyes and a hint of green that reminded you far too much of Terry.

“Girl, what is wrong with you?” you muttered, excitement and embarrassment fluttering in your stomach. “Eww.” You slammed the book shut, tossing it aside as if it could distance you from those heated thoughts.

The fantasy of you and Terry—fantastic, intense, yet somehow fitting—felt all too real. Deciding to clear your head, you hopped off the bed and went downstairs.

As you rounded the corner, the comforting sound of music wafted through the air. It drew you closer to the living room, where you found Terry lounging in the dim light, a glass of whiskey in one hand while he tapped his fingers to the beat.

"What are you doin' down here?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe. Your tone was a mix of attitude and curiosity. Terry looked up, his attention shifting to you with a slight smirk.

"Just chillin' and having a drink; wanna join?" He asked, raising the whiskey bottle high, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. "Nah, I'm good," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Okay, cool! can you leave then? You really mess up the vibe with that bad attitude of yours," Terry said with a sigh, motioning you to leave with his hand, and you gasped, irritated.

“Terry, you need to stop tellin' me what to do. This is my house too, alright? My name on the deed just like yours.” You said firmly while stepping into the living room.

Terry lifted an eyebrow, his expression shifting into something sharper. He stood up, the sound of his boots scraping against the floor and cutting through the air.

“I see how it is. You really tryna push my buttons, huh? I ain't the one to mess with. Do you need me to check that attitude? ‘Cause I could go there if you wanted.”

His words hung between you two, heavy and tense. “You act like you know me so well, Terry. Maybe you need to get checked for thinkin’ you can just walk all over me like I'm some joke.” You said.

“You know I’m just playin’ with you. It’s all in good fun; I ain't tryin' to hurt your feelings. You love the back and forth, though, don’t you? It gets you all riled up. You wanted to see how far you could push me, right?” He said softly, moving closer to you.

Your breath caught, realizing he was onto something. Deep down, you did like it, testing the limits. “Oh please,” you replied, flipping your hair dramatically to the side of your shoulder.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between you two. A gleam in his eye made the air around you feel electric, and before you could take another breath, he backed you against the wall.

“Are you sure about that?” Terry asked, his voice low, laced with a desire that left your heart racing. You met his stare, trying to retain your bravado.

“I—” you started, but how he looked down at you made your thoughts scatter. Those words hung in the air, your bravado dripping away beneath that smirk.

“You ain’t slick. You know you like me bein’ around, even if you won’t admit it.” That grin of his only made you want to smack him, but deep down, you knew the truth.

Something magnetic drew you to him, the tension crackling like static. You swallowed hard and crossed your arms in a futile attempt to shield yourself from his intensity.

“You all talk, sweetheart, but no action,” Terry said, pressing his body against you and that strong, overwhelming presence invading your space.

You didn’t know whether to scream or giggle; all you could think about was how close he was and how his presence made you feel—like you were on the brink of something wild and unpredictable.

It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Finally, unable to hold onto your facade any longer, you gave him a playful shove, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“Get outta my face, Terry!” You shot back, and Terry stepped back, chuckling, but you could see that glimmer in his eyes—darkened before you knew it.

Terry yanked you from the wall and moved you over to the couch, bending you over the arm. You turned your head, heart pounding, trying to hide the smirk creeping up your face.

"What ya about to do, tough guy."

“Teach you a lesson,” Terry said, and before you come up with come back, you bit your lip to suppress a moan at the touch of his hands on your body.

Terry pushed your nightgown up and gave you a smack, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure. You glance back at him; his eyes convey a serious intent, and you receive another sharp smack.

"Not as tough as I thought, huh? You ready to give up?" Terry asked; his voice was deep and sensual, giving another smack.

“Fuck you...no one...no one's giving up!” You cried, digging your nails into the cushion of the couch as you tried to suppress a moan from coming from your mouth.

“Tsk, Tsk, tsk, wrong answer. Okay, you leave me no choice," Terry said, grabbing your hair and pushing your face into the bottom cushion of the couch.

Terry moved your panties to the side and began playing with your pussy lips, running his fingers through the pool of your wetness. “Mmm...look at that pretty pussy! It's all wet for me."

“Terry, please!” You pleaded, gradually surrendering and allowing your body to express what you couldn't say.

"Please, what?" He asked, pulling your head by your hair and looking into your eyes with a mixture of amusement, lust, and pleasure.

“Please, just a little more,” You moaned urgently, desperation creeping into your voice. Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Did you learn your lesson? You gonna stop talking at me like you crazy?” Terry asked, his tone teasing yet profound as if he were putting you on trial.

You hesitated, my pride battling with my desire. The truth was, you craved that tension, that thrill. you swallowed hard, resisting the urge to give in so easily.

But as you looked into his eyes, that smirk igniting a fire within you, you felt your resolve crumbling. “Yes, yes.” The words spilled out before you could hold them back. “Please, Terry.”

His smirk widened, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his features. He leaned closer, and you could feel the heat radiating between us.

“You’re really begging now, aren’t you?” he teased, enjoying the power he wielded in this moment.

“Yes, I am; I need it; I need you, please; I'm so sorry for being so mean to you; just please, I need more.” You begged, your voice loud beyond a whisper, laced with defiance and desperation.

Terry lets go of your braids and moves you to be spread wide on the couch before him. “Alright, then,” he said, a sense of authority in his tone. “I’ll give you what you’re asking for."

Terry rubbed his fingers through your soaked panties, making you moan with pleasure. "Please, Terry, stop teasing me." You cried, getting tears of frustration in your eyes.

"It's daddy for now, lil mama! You got that?" Terry ordered, smacking your pussy, and you looked into his eyes; the look was giving you all types of feels.

"Okay, well, daddy! Can you please eat my fucking pussy," You moaned, which made Terry chuckle and rip your panties off with a force like no other.

"I’m going to make you feel so good," Terry growls before plunging his tongue between your wet folds, going slowly and flicking his tongue through your folds.

"How does that feel, baby," Terry asked, and you couldn't believe he was doing wonders on you. "Fuck, Daddy, so good. Your tongue feels amazing"

"That's what I like to hear, And you taste so damn sweet. I could eat you for every meal" Terry said, and you moaned in response, grabbing the back of his head as he sought out your most sensitive spots.

You cried at how incredible his tongue was. Terry's plump lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You removed your nightdress and tossed it across the room, began playing with one of your breasts with your right hand while the other was till the back of Terry's head.

"Ahhh, fuck, fuck oh my god," You cried, rolling your head back in pleasure, and Terry muffled in your pussy as he began fingering you and sucking at your folds.

"Fuck, mmmm baby, I love the way your pussy tastes so much," Terry said; your juices were all over his face and his beard. His eyes met yours, and he fingered you like trying to prove a point.

It was working so well on you, surprising because of the way his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard you knew he was trying to make you squirt.

"Show me how much you love my pussy, daddy! Tell me who owns this fucking pussy" You moaned, challenged in your tone, and Terry smirked, diving his tongue back into your pussy and bringing your legs over his shoulder.

You chuckled before making an O in your mouth, feeling your body trembling slightly, arching your back against the back of the couch. A knot in your stomach began to grow.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my goodness, I see, I get it"

"Nah...I don't think you do."

"Oh, I do, I do, please. I'm shaking already; I can't take it." You cried, and Terry didn't care; he focused all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

You could feel your body tense, clutched onto Terry's head as you felt your orgasm rise. 'Can I cum, Daddy. I'm so close; I'll be a good girl for now, please."

"You promise to be a good girl from now on, not more talk back, and you gonna listen to me, right?" He asked, staring into you like a lion hunting his prey.

"Yes, yes, yes, please," You cried shaking your head with new tears coming from your face. Terry chuckled and began to flickering your clit with his fingers fast and with firm pressure;

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 'Cum, cum for me, baby. Let me hear you, let me hear those pretty sounds."

"Oh my gosh, I'm gonna fucking-" You cried, feeling yourself cum hard while a gushing of water came out of your pussy. "Mmm, baby, you look so beautiful when you cum," Terry said with a smirk.

Your chest rose up and down as you calmed down from your trembling while Terry stood up and wiped your juices that were all over his face.

Terry removed his shirt and pushed his shorts and underwear down to his feet with his boots. You gasped at the sight of his dick; it was huge, veiny and lengthy.

"Shit, that's huge. You have the most perfect dick I have ever seen, Terry." You bite your lip and go to stroking it, but Terry manhandles you to get on your knees on the floor and face towards the couch.

Terry grabs your neck and kisses you passionately, leaving you speechless before pulling away. You moaned when he gave your ass smack, and you leaned back, jiggling your ass for him.

"I want your dick so bad, big daddy. Please fuck me," You moaned, and. "How bad you want it?" Terry smirked, giving you another smack on the ass.

"So bad, I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You cried, titled your head to look at him, and Terry grasped your ass and thrust his dick through your wet folds, not daring to enter.

"Don't know, I need a little more, lil mama," Terry said, arching your back slightly and spreading your legs out a little more. "Please fuck me, I've been wanting you to for so long, please"

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time. He cursed, loving how your walls gripped him like a glove. "Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, you feel so good inside me. Fuck, I love your dick already; it fits so perfectly," You moaned, looking back at him with desire.

Terry looked so fucking sensual in the light dim on him. "Mmm, baby girl you feel so fucking amazing. I could be so deep inside pussy forever."

You lean back and place your hand on his hip as he thrusts faster than before. "Pound my little pussy with your big dick, daddy," You moaned, looking up at him.

Terry immediately started pounding, moving his hand from your hip to grip your neck. "Fuck, fuck...Oh...I love hearing the sound of our skin slapping against each other."

"Push your ass back towards me, baby. I want to feel all of you," Terry said, smacking your ass, and you bit your lip, placing your hands on the edge of the couch and pushing it back against him.

"Like this, Daddy?" You asked with a moan, trying to match the rhymes of his rough, pounding thrusts. "Yes, baby, just like that, fuck. Take this dick so well," He moaned, His eyebrow furrowed.

Terry gripping the hand full of your ass before giving it a smack. You knew by the end of this that your ass was gonna probably slightly bruised, but you didn't care, so caught up with desire.

"Ahh, yes, don't stop, Daddy, fuck me," You moaned, feeling so much cream coming from your pussy, and Terry pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you.

He kissed you while still pounding into you. "I don't think I can stop until I can cum, Fuck, why is your pussy so perfect, girl," Terry moaned, burying his face in your neck while grabbing your breasts.

"I’ll only cum when you tell me to, Daddy. I wanna feel your cum, I want to be filled with your cum, please; I'm on the pill, so worries," You moaned, reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I want you to cum with me. Can you do that for me? Be a good girl and cum with your daddy," Terry said, grabbing your neck, and in minutes, both of them moaned and climaxed together.

Terry pulled you into a kiss as his hot cum came shooting out inside of you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He pulls out of your pussy, watching his cum drip out with a smirk.

Terry lost his balance and fell onto the soft carpet, trying to catch his breath. You giggled and propped yourself up on the couch. "That was...something!" you said, looking at Terry as his chest rose and fell.

"I can't believe we just did." You said softly, shocked your own damn self. When his eyes met yours, his face brightened with a smile.

"You're welcome, "Terry laughed, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the couch to leave the living room.

Terry's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Hey, where you think you goin'?" He looked at you with a playful smirk, making your heart race faster.

"I'm just gonna shower, you know, clean up," you replied with a shy smile, trying to play it cool, but something in his gaze made you flutter.

"Okay! Mind if I join, sweetheart," Terry suggested, his tone light but the invitation lingering in the air. You thought for a moment, then nodded with a grin. "Sure, come on!"

"What? Really Damn, I think fucked you too good, got you acting like a whole different person," Terry joked, and you playfully hit him as you both went to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, the warm water cascaded down, and the playful banter began. "You better not hog all the hot water," Terry teased, splashing some soap suds your way.

"Terry, I'm not," you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. The laughter between you two quickly turned into something more intense.

The steam enveloped you as he kissed you, and you found yourselves fucking again, losing track of time. After the shower, you felt a wave of relaxation wash over you.

Terry pulled you close, his hands gentle on your skin as he started the aftercare routine, concern etched on his face. "You good? You feeling okay?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Thanks, Terry,” you replied, your heart fluttering at his tenderness. Terry then gestured towards his bedroom, his eyes brightening. “Wanna come cuddle for a bit?”

You paused, your stomach doing flips. "Uh, sure. just give me a minute to get dressed," You said, and he nodded. You made your way to your bedroom to throw on something comfortable.

You felt all kinds of butterflies as you changed. Once dressed, you headed to Terry's bedroom, pushing the door open slowly. He was waiting there, a soft smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“Took you long enough,” Terry joked, but his warmth made you feel at home. You climbed onto his bed, his familiar scent surrounding you—cologne mixed with something uniquely Terry.

Nestling into his arms felt like slipping into a soft cloud, safe and secure. "This is nice," you murmured, melting against him. “Yeah...you know,” Terry suddenly started.

“I really, really like you.” His honesty caught you off guard, making your heart race again. “You like me? For real?” you blurted out, surprise shifting into clarity.

It was time to lay it all out there. “I…I like you too Terry. A lot, actually.” A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “I know, baby girl. So, how ‘bout we go out on a date?”

“Yes. I’d love that,” you replied, feeling a wave of exhilaration wash over you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full-on fireworks show.

This was it—everything was changing, and all you could think was that you had never felt so alive. With that, you settled into each other’s arms, ready for whatever came next.

-

Over the next few months, you and Terry kept your relationship under wraps, enjoying the sweet thrill of being together without drawing too much attention.

The other folks at the farm could sense a change, though. Your laughter was brighter, your smiles broader, and Terry—oh, he was positively glowing.

The two of you knew how to flirt and play around casually and efficiently despite the deeper feelings simmering beneath the surface.

One sunny afternoon, you decided to escape the hustle of the farm for a picnic. You picked a spot amongst the wildflowers, vibrant and full of life, just like you both felt.

The sun kissed your dark-brown skin as you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Terry, ever the teaser, leaned in closer.

“You know, it's crazy, just not a few months ago. You hated my guts, and now you let me be in your guts,” Terry said, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I didn't hate you, Terry, and stop playing with me,” you replied, laughing as you playfully swatted his arm. "Just making a jokey, jokey. You know you always look so gorgeous in sunlight," He said, cupping your cheek.

"I do?" You asked, smiling happily at him. “Yeah, you got that glow, like the sun loves to see your shine bright; I can’t get enough of it,” Terry said, leaning closer, his voice dropping softer.

With a spark in his eyes, he leaned in before you even realized what he was about to say. "I love you, baby!" Your eyes lit up, and you said, "I love you too, Terry." He smiled as both of your lips met.

It was a sweet moment that you wanted to freeze in time. As you both pulled away, laughing, you heard the distant sound of hooves approaching.

“Oh shit, we might be busted,” Terry whispered, a hint of panic in his voice, but you felt a rush of thrill at the possibility of being caught. It was Jenna and Mike, riding in casually on their horses.

Their expressions shifted from surprise to playful disbelief when they spotted you two. “Whoa, what’s goin’ on here?” Jenna called, a teasing grin stretching across her face as she and Mike dismounted.

“Looks like y’all been busy!” Mike said, giving his cousin, Terry, a look. “Uh… we can explain?” Terry stammered, hoping to smooth things over before it got out of hand.

Mike laughed, crossing his arms. “Explain what, cuz? This ain’t exactly rocket science. Look at you two; it’s obvious!” You exchanged a glance with Terry, suppressing a laugh.

“Okay, fine! We’re together,” you finally admitted, trying to sound nonchalant. “The best news I’ve heard all week!” Jenna chimed in, her excitement bubbling over.

“Hate to interrupt the lovey-dovey moment, but we need some help back at the farm,” Mike said, shifting gears as he glanced at the scattered picnic items.

“Things are a bit chaotic, and we could use an extra set of hands. You two can sit here and kiss some other time.” Jenna added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we’ll help! Just give us a second to pack up,” you said, rolling up the picnic blanket, and Terry helped you pack up before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

He pulled you close as you walked back toward the horses. “Guess we can save this date for later then,” Terry said softly, fighting back a grin.

“Yeah, duty calls," You started. "But don’t worry big daddy; there’ll be plenty of time for us to make it up if you know what I mean," you whispered, nudging him as his eyes slightly darkened.

As you reached the horses, with smiles on your faces, the four of you rode back to the farm, the air buzzing with determination. You were in love, and nothing felt better like this.

[faylvrs]

but im not hurt, im tense ✿ bllk multi ’cause i’ll be fine without you babe.

﹒postscript : it’ll never work out. feat. ɞ‎ shidou, rin, sae, kaiser ʚ cw : fem reader, angst ( no comfort )

shidou looks at you with a pout on his face. it’s been millenials since he last saw you—( 2 weeks ). so when he finally found you wandering the local store in your area, he immediately grabbed your wrist.

“you blocked me.” his mouth curls downwards. “am i nothing to you?”

the mocking look on his face only makes your frustrations grow deeper. “yes, i did block you. and that too for a reason so let g—“

“no.” his grip on your hand tightens, as if he was scared to let go. “tell me baby, where did i go wrong?” his tone sounds almost pleading.

“where did you go wrong?” you stare at him in disbelief. “you almost punched my dad at family dinner, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap at him.

“is that what you’re mad about?” shidou scoffs. “he deserved it anyway, was sayin’ some stupid shit.” he dismisses your confrontation.

“ryusei.” your hand finally breaks free from his grip, pushing him away. “this is why we broke up.” you glare at him before hurriedly exiting the store.

shidou clenches his fists, knuckles turning white as he looks down at the floor. he felt his blood boiling, like he was going to burst in an explosion.

it’s only that, he doesn’t like this explosion.

rin’s resolve is crumbling down second by second as he watches your smile break down into a look of confusion and hurt. you’re interfering with his goals? what is he talking about?

“what are you talking about?” you hold onto his hand, as if clutching a thread thats about to break. “i’ve been there for you since we were kids and supported your dream—what’s so annoying about that?” the tention in your words are clear.

“im going to become the world’s best striker.” rin grits his teeth. “and you keep getting in the fucking way.” his words are cold, hitting you like an iceberg.

you do get in his way- in every way possible. he wants to defeat itoshi sae, and yet, every goal he scores seems to be dedicated to you. you’re slowly deprieving his heart of all the hatred and god, he hates it.

he’s made up his mind, he wants to defeat itoshi sae. but with you, the only mental image in his mind is nii-chan, not itoshi sae.

he doesn’t want to destroy his older brother, he wants to destroy itoshi sae.

his heart clenches at the sorrowful look on your face. “are you serious? im getting in the way?” you look like your world has just been broken into a million pieces—it’s so sudden, you almost don’t know how to react.

“you’re lukewarm.” rin stares daggers into you. “just forget about us, you knew we were never meant to be.”

maybe rin imagined a future with you,

but all you are now is a bittersweet childhood sweetheart.

sae doesn’t have time for you.

or thats what he likes telling himself, since he always finds himself cancelling interviews or cutting practice short to come see you.

you mess with his brain—in a good and bad way.

but he know’s you deserve better, better than someone like him. you deserve someone who can be there for you, communicate with you properly, give you the affection you deserve.

but he can’t.

it’s been clear he’s never made you a priority in his life, he know’s you’re getting tired of him canceling dates and replying to your messages every few hours.

he’s just finished practice, taking a long sip from his water bottle as he opens his phone. a message from you pops up.

im breaking up with you. it’s not working out, im sorry.

sae’s expression is neutral, but the way he’s squeezing the life out of the plastic bottle says otherwise, squeezing out the last bit of water as it falls to the ground.

you have all the good reason to break up with him, but something in him wants to plead, to beg, that he’ll be better, to give him one last chance.

sorry for not making time for you. good luck.

”you’re not enough.” kaiser snaps at you, a look of fury in his eyes.

you had arguments with him often. you were tired of him constantly pushing you away whenever you’d try to show him an ounce of affection—simple things would turn into harsh words exchanged between eachother.

“do you not see how much i do for you?” you snap back. “and you’re saying im not enough? when i have to go days without contact because you don’t even bother to call?” you raise your voice at him, making him flinch.

the truth is, you’ve always been enough.

but he’s not enough for you. that’s why he’s building these barriers around himself to hide away—he doesn’t deserve you, nor your touch. you’re like an angel who descended from the gates of heaven, and he’s a lowly devil.

he’s afraid his scars will brush on you, which is why he never gives you the chance to heal them. instead pushing you further and further away.

”schatz.” his eyes waver at the hurt visible in your eyes, and the nickname doesn’t make it any better.

he can’t ask for your forgiveness, he’s not worthy of it.

he can only watch you walk out of his life, an angel deprieved of her feathers.

[princessbrunette]

omg rafe walking in on bunny holding a gun to groff (like the scene where hollis is shot)

spoilers below !!!! mentions of death n violence too

i like this idea because i think it would result in rafe killing groff, leaving (cough, cough) certain people’s fate on a different path — keeping them alive and well.

rafe would stroll in, only to have his heart plummet to his ass, seeing you shakily holding up a gun, eyes trained on the older man.

“hey, hey hey woah! ‘the hell is goin’ on?” rafes loud and panicked voice fills the room, making you jump which makes everyone flinch. his hands are up in the air like you had the gun aimed at him.

“rafe, so glad you’re here.” groff greets him as calmly as he can, glancing toward him reluctantly as to not take his wide eyes off you. “why don’t you tell this little lady right here to put the gun down huh? we can all just talk.”

rafe licks his lips, stalking closer. “wh—why? what you do huh? why is she — why is my girlfriend holding a gun to your face huh?” he raises his voice a little, watching the tears prick your eyes as you tremble, stiff and unmoving as you stare at groff.

“nothing, nothing just a little misunderstanding!”

the cameron boy turns his attention to you, even bending at the knees a little to level with you. his hands are infront of him now, wild eyes trying to grab your attention.

“hey, look at me alright why don’t you hand that to me? not gonna let anything happen baby just — just lemme have it.”

you trust him, and only him — but the second you take your eyes off groff, extending your arm to hand the pistol to your boyfriend, groff is quick to suddenly knock it out of your hand, sending the room into chaos as he charges at you.

naturally, rafe swings at him and the two begin to tussle, flying into furniture. avoiding the chaos, you crawl in your little white dress — still somewhat conscious of the fact you’re messing up your outfit and reach for the fallen gun once more, only for groff to grab it just in time, aiming it right at you.

groff pulls the trigger, but by some insane stroke of luck — the gun jams, leaving him confused and disorientated for a moment, leaving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to grab it once more, the gun shooting out a delayed bullet straight into groffs leg.

the older man falls to the floor now, yelling, wincing and clutching his wound.

“agh! son of a bitch!” he curses, curling up and backing away until his back hits the cool marble of the kitchen wall. rafe licks his lips, catching his breath as he stalks toward the man, now fearful and small on the ground. “look i snapped okay, it was a mistake that i wont be making again!”

“yeah, nah… little too late for ‘mistakes’ now, isn’t it?” rafe screws up his face, lifting the gun to aim it at him. “you tried to shoot my girlfriend.” he observes, now eerily calm.

you stand trembling behind him, heart thundering in your chest.

“in my defence, she was going to shoot me first.” groff tries, causing rafe to scoff and cock the gun, causing the man to cower.

“pro’lly within good reason too, bitch.” he takes a few breaths before calling your name, hoarse voice just that tad more gentle. he doesn’t take his eyes off groff as a safety precaution, yet he waits for some kind of response.

“hm?”

“face the wall n’cover your ears, alright?”

“rafey, you’ll go t’jail again and—” you go to whine, emotional but he cuts you off impatiently.

“hey. i’m a killer, alright. s’who i am. just like my dad. wouldn’t have to be that way but — but people keep pushing me so… i got no choice. do as i say, okay? now?”

he waits for the sound of your reluctant scuffling feet, and even through the palms of your hands — the sound of the single bullet piercing the air is deafening.

[clesired]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓 | 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! you miss one quidditch game, and somehow sirius ends up in the hospital wing!?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, fem!reader, friends to lovers, second person pov, 1.6k words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Stupid, stupid, man! You can’t help but think to yourself as you hastily make your way through the empty corridors.

Of course, it’s the one time you miss a Quidditch game that your best friend decides to go and get himself hurt. You swear he’s gonna be the death of you.

You’d already felt terrible having to tell him you couldn’t make it to the game today because you had to finish a paper for one of your classes. The look on his face when you broke the news had almost convinced you to change your mind, his puppy dog eyes your greatest weakness—something you suspect he is well aware of and uses to his advantage as much as possible.

And now that he’s been injured? You just know he’s gonna give you hell for not being there. You’re inclined to let him though, because after this—you’re never missing a game again.

You don’t even know how severe the injury is yet—Remus’ patronus message having only given you minimum context, but it really doesn’t matter. It could be a simple scratch and that would be more than enough to get you going.

The first people you see when you enter the hospital wing are Remus and Peter. As soon as they notice your arrival, they step away from the bed they’re surrounding.

Your eyes fall to Sirius, who immediately smiles as he locks eyes with you. And just like every other time he looks at you, the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter enthusiastically.

“Bug!” He calls out happily, his tone affectionate as he immediately attempts to get out of the bed—pouting when Remus forces him to remain seated on the edge.

“Moony! Tell Poppy I don’t need anymore of those nasty potions, my bug is here!” He makes a stink face at the thought of said potions before he looks back at you and smiles once more. “And she’s all the medicine I need.” He says sweetly, causing Remus and Peter to chuckle softly as you blush.

Remus nudges Peter gently and then calls out to you two, “We’re gonna go catch the last of the match and come back with Prongs before dinner. You good here, Pads?”

He nods quickly. “Perfect.”

As they leave, you move to stand beside his bed, your eyes scanning his form—assessing the damage.

Sirius notices what you’re doing and lifts his left arm, which you only now realize looks a little…off. “Just a broken arm, love. Nothing a little Skelegro can’t fix.” He says softly, tilting his head back to continue looking at you.

You huff softly, moving to stand between his spread legs as you frown gently. Your hand moves on its own accord, cupping his neck as you feel him swallow softly and lean further into your touch.

“You’re not allowed to get hurt again.” You grumble quietly, causing him to chuckle softly as he uses his uninjured arm to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

He presses his face into your stomach ever so gently before looking up at you once more, smirking cheekily. “And you’re not allowed to miss one of my games again.”

You’re just about to respond when you feel a pinch at your side, causing you to yelp softly instead. You immediately glare down at Sirius as he just smiles and rubs the pinched skin soothingly.

“That’s what you get for taking my good luck charm away from me, bug.” He says unapologetically, causing you to roll your eyes playfully as you shake your head in amusement.

He’s talking about you, of course.

When you two had met in first year, he’d found you holding a bunch of ladybugs in the middle of the courtyard, completely uncaring of the odd looks the other students were giving you.

His first instinct had been to poke fun, of course. Why in Merlin’s name would you be playing with bugs!?

You hadn’t been fazed by his taunting though. Instead, you’d explained that ladybugs signified good luck and placed one in his hand, sweetly wishing him luck in all his endeavors.

You’ve been his ‘good luck charm’ ever since, hence the nickname.

“Oh, how ever shall I make it up to you, Siri? I’ll do anything!” You say dramatically, thumb gently caressing the side of his neck as you giggle.

He looks up at you, a soft smile on his face as he watches you laugh. He squeezes your waist gently with his uninjured hand and pulls you even closer.

His thumb slips beneath the hem of your shirt to caress the skin of your hip as he swallows, his eyes falling to your lips before quickly looking back up into your eyes.

“Anything?” He repeats lowly, causing your breath to hitch ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, that wasn’t here just seconds ago.

You nod slowly, your eyes mirroring his movements as you focus on his mouth, your heart racing at lightning speed. “Anything.” You whisper.

The next moment happens so fast—one second you’re looking at him and the next, he’s got you locked in a deep kiss as he pulls you to sit in his lap.

You return the embrace readily, mindful of his arm as you card your hands through his hair and tug gently. The action pulls a groan out of him and you do it again, kissing him deeper.

His uninjured hand moves to hold you by the neck as he takes charge, getting a soft moan out of you before eventually pulling back to let you catch your breath.

His eyes are dark and heady with want as he stares at you, taking in your kiss-stung lips with pure satisfaction.

Still holding your neck, he squeezes gently. “I don’t think you’ve made it up to me yet, bug.” He says quietly, tracing the tip of his nose along the side of your neck.

You let out a little shiver, your breath hitching once more as your hands move to rest at the nape of his neck. “I don’t think I have either, Siri.” You agree softly.

His eyes darken even further as he begins pressing gentle kisses all across your neck and up your jaw.

Suddenly, the sound of a loud gasp causes you two to spring apart as you attempt to get out of Sirius’ lap—a fruitless endeavor, as he holds you firmly in place.

“Mr. Black, I do recall telling you not to put strain on your body while the Skelegro mends your arm.” Madam Pomfrey chastises, staring him down as she deposits a tray of new potions at her desk.

You blush in embarrassment, successfully managing to get off of Sirius’ lap this time as you look down, smoothing out the wrinkles in your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, Madam Pomfrey!” You apologize quickly, not wanting to get in trouble.

The older witch looks over to you and softens, smiling gently as she waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t fret, my dear. I’m well aware of Mr. Black’s stubbornness.”

Sirius clutches at his chest dramatically as he pouts at her. “You wound me, Poppy!” He pretends to shed a tear before looking at you.

He grabs your hand, pulling you back into his arms. “I think I need another kiss to make me feel better, bug. My heart is aching!” He puckers his lips.

You and Madam Pomfrey share a look before you both roll your eyes playfully.

Looking back down at him, you peck his lips softly but quickly and then straighten up, raising a brow. “There. Happy now?” You ask teasingly.

He just shakes his head and puckers his lips once again, making you giggle as you shake your head. “We’re in the hospital wing, Siri.” You remind him gently.

Now that Madam Pomfrey is here, you’re not going to risk it—the quick peck as far as you were willing to go.

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he huffs softly. “Fine. You’ll have to make that up to me too, then.”

You smile, nodding along. “I’ll give you all the kisses you want later, I promise.”

But he just shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. ‘S not gonna cut it.” He mumbles, squeezing your waist once more as he sneakily presses a soft kiss to your hip before you can stop him.

You chuckle softly, brows raising as you tilt your head. “No?”

He shakes his head again, pressing another kiss to your hip.

“How should I make it up to you then, Siri?” You question with a smile.

He swallows softly as he slowly looks up at you then, sobering up some as he studies your face intently. His expression is so open and raw, so vulnerable right now that it steals the breath right out of your lungs.

You’ve never seen him look so nervous before and you try to keep your hopes at bay—not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet.

He inhales gently before slowly grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers and resting your locked hands on his thigh.

“Be mine, bug.” He says simply, soft and quiet—his words only meant for your ears.

The smile you give him is unmatched as you nod quickly, any thoughts of propriety out the window as you pull him into another deep kiss.

It doesn’t last long though, both of you smiling too much to keep the embrace going. When you pull back, he’s smiling contentedly.

“Finally my bug.” He says quietly, humming thoughtfully as he smirks softly. “And all I had to do was break an arm to make it happen.”

You do a double take. “Wait, what?”

He planned this?

You smack his uninjured arm gently as you glare. “You didn’t have to get yourself hurt just to ask me out, Siri!” You scold your boyfriend.

Merlin, he’s your boyfriend now! The thought makes you giddy and you can’t hold your glare any longer as you smile, blushing softly.

His only response is to return your smile and shrug as he pulls you in for a tender kiss and murmurs softly.

“Worth it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first oneshot done!!! i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Careful, Bub | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Synopsis: I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified / Can't help myself, hormones are high / Give me more than just some butterflies

Warnings: Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Sexting, Nude Photos, Mentions of Sex Toy Use, Dom!Logan, Logan Talks You Through It, P R A I S E K I N K ! L O G A N, Choking of the Sexual Variety, Shoving, Claws Come Out,  Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Logan is 200 years old), Reader used to have confidence issues but worked through them,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 8.5k

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It’s fun to relate to the people that live in the same place as you, something about it deepens the connection. Whether it is a mutual bonding over music, entertainment, or even sports – it always makes you feel closer, comfortable. In this day and age, it can be almost lonely if you aren’t connected with others through your phone, making the world feel a bit glummer. Having that safe group is necessary to be one with the world, to feel like you’re going to be okay – like everything is going to pan out. You happened to luck out by living in the same building as some of the most heinous, and hilarious characters the world has ever set eyes on. You have the fortune of calling them your friends.

The group chat was originally Wade’s idea. His way of bringing you into the crew when you worked late, not missing a moment of meet ups you couldn’t make it to. It was a sweet gesture, but with how many others were in there – it overwhelmed you. Out of the twelve people who are constantly messaging the chat, you found safety within two of them. Negasonic and Yukio happened to be your solace when the chat was too loud. Yukio wasted no time in creating a Girls Only chat for you three, where nothing was held back. You three could express yourselves in every way possible, without the guys being weirdos – mainly Wade but still. It was great to have women friends around your own age, that was something you were not used to. 

Any inside joke about the guys or about events being organized was ran through your three separately, making small bets here and there on what Al would say, who Peter would try to have grab his chain, how many times Logan told Wade to fuck off. Logan, that made you tune in real quick. The possibilities were endless and made it eventful to say the least. But the one thing you loved the most about your friendship with Nega and Yukio is how open they are with you; Honest, encouraging, your own personal cheerleaders. When you initially met them, you were a shy little wallflower – getting by on just being a listener over a talker. Always the encourager, never getting encouragement. Shying away anytime someone was nice to you, never accepting it as truth. Yukio and Nega were the opposite of what you were, and everything you wanted to be.

Having a safe space with them meant you could send them anything and they’d listen, give advice, be the best friends you could’ve ever asked for. It was with them that you found your confidence, something you always struggled with. It was one photo you sent them of the dress you were wearing – both ladies telling you how beautiful and gorgeous you are, how hot you looked in it. That small little omission altered your brain chemistry. You hadn’t been called hot before, so it invigorated you to hear that. It was a long dive into the endless pool below, and you were ready for the journey down. Months and months of slowly getting out of your shell with them turned you into a little vixen, the compliments they gave you caused you to thrive. You always reciprocated for them as well, hyping them up through and through. It felt good to feel like you were worth it, like you weren’t just there. It changed the way you saw yourself, and you knew you’d never go back to how it was before.

Tonight was no different, after all you had just gotten back from hanging out with them. A trip downtown to the mall was a call for chaos when it was you three, Wade forcing Logan to stay home with him and reenact The Greatest Showman with Mary Puppins. It bummed you out for a bit, not being able to chill with Logan like you wanted, but when Wade called – no one told him no. It was a secret to everyone who wasn’t Yukio and Nega that you had a thing for Logan. Something about the older man burned right through you in the most sensual way possible, something deep and longing you never wanted to leave. Little glances you two would have together always caused the girls to giggle, teasing you about it later but, it was only a matter of time before the chord snapped, before you gave in. Still that fear sat at the back of your mind, the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he doesn’t want anyone? What if? What if? What if?

As you sit on your plush rug right in front of your wall length mirror, you leaned against the side of your bed, humming as you thumbed through the earlier group chat messages. Behind you on your duvet sat the bag full of clothing you had gotten, trying to add more color into your wardrobe. Beneath it all sat a spicy little number you nabbed whole Yukio and Nega were changing, something that felt so right you needed to have it. It wasn’t a secret that you would buy yourself things like these every now and again but, this time around you felt empowered holding this little secret just for yourself, to surprise your friends with. They always said that color duo made you look fearless, powerful, gorgeous – and you’d be damned if you’d pass it up, especially on sale.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you contemplated getting up to take a shower or put on your new set, feeling yourself out, getting some prime photos then showering. The toss up between the two left you unable to choose, wondering if you could go hang out with Wade and Laura instead, maybe even sneak your way into Logan’s room. The thought made your body shiver, needing to close your eyes for a moment to brace yourself. Taking a deep breath in, you let your mind wander, your hand grabbing the bag off your bed instinctively. It was a given deep down you wanted to prance around your room in the set, spicing up your night. Something about wearing it underneath your clothes while hanging out with everyone felt taboo, downright sinful – but you craved it.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, you gently grabbed each piece of lingerie out of the bag, the rustling of tissue paper filling the air as your music droned low in the background. The bra was placed carefully against the bed first, followed by the lacy things and garter set; Your eyes quivered with arousal as you saw it, knowing how it was going to make you feel. There was no wasted effort in stripping completely naked, tossing your day clothes into the laundry basket. The slight cool breeze coming from your central air, mixing with the intoxicating smell of the candles lit around you made your eyes darken, your nipples pebbling against the air. You understood why you were excited and giddy to be putting it in, but in the back of your mind you also felt nervous. It was confusing you.

Pushing it out of your head, you ignored the nagging in the back of your mind, solely focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the soft lace of the thong up your thighs, you reveled in how it felt – how it glided against your skin so softly, like it was a lover. How supportive it felt cupping your front whilst holding your behind helped to quell some of the nerves lying low in your belly. Snapping the elastic band against your hip, you giggled as you grabbed the bra. Even though it was lacy and covered almost nothing, it had good support for your breasts, holding them perfectly to show the most amount of cleavage, but also leaving some to the imagination. In between the small bits of detailing, you could see the color of your nipple, which caused your smirk to grow. Biting your bottom lip, you smoothed your hands over the apex of your breasts, watching as the flesh spilled over slightly.

All that was left was your garter belt, sitting across the middle of your stomach and hooking onto your stockings. You worked quickly to pull them up as you let the music take over you, swaying to the beat so it was less intimidating. As the final strap was hooked to the top of your stockings, you let out a shaky sigh, silently prepping yourself for what you would see once you turned around. Keeping your eyes closed you spun around slowly, letting the anticipation eat away at you until you couldn’t take anymore. Usually you were so confident when it came to trying these pieces on, not giving a second worry to them – this time around you were nervous, as if this particular color scheme made you scared. You couldn’t let that hold you back, not after how far you have come, it wasn’t worth it.

Slowly you opened your eyes as you faced the mirror, the blue tint of the strip lighting giving a whimsy glow to your room. The focal point of your vision started to become clear as you looked at your face, makeup still immaculate and beautiful from earlier. But as your eyes panned down to your body, you felt a fresh wave of goosebumps flood your skin, a shaky moan leaving your lips. The yellow of the bra and thong complimented your figure wonderfully, amplifying the gorgeous glow of your skin. But truly it was the navy blue of your stockings and belt that made your body quiver; The royal deep color punctuating your sensuality with how you stood. You couldn’t believe this was you, in all your baren glory – a fucking goddess amongst men, you could send one to the hospital just with this set. You couldn’t keep your smile back any longer as you stared at yourself, admiring your body and its shape against the lingerie. All the worries, all the small doubts instantly fell away, your confidence skyrocketing.

You knew for a fact Yukio and Nega would hype you up, thinking this was totally you¸ and probably ask if you got it today. But those could wait, you needed to take photos – you needed to see what you looked like on screen. The giddy nature of what you were doing sent shivers through your body, the thought of what positions would look best making you grow excited. You decided that your go-to for new outfits would fit perfectly in this scenario. Who knows, you could save this photo for a rainy day when you wanted to tease someone. You grabbed your phone off of the bed as you dropped to your knees, the plush shag material of your lilac rug feeling lovely against your legs.

Parting your thighs, you left a good gap between both as you sunk yourself down. One hand came to press against the floor directly in front of your clothed core, tossing your hair over to the opposite side. As you held your phone in position with your free hand, you noticed how your arm was pushing your breasts together deliciously, deepening the cleavage, sending your eyes a shade darker. Pouting your lip as cutely as you do, you snapped a few quick photos, getting every great angle you could as you changed your hair direction. A blur of photos filled your camera roll as you felt yourself, “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter coming across your playlist at the best time.

As you laughed to yourself, you finally stopped taking photos, sitting with your back against the bed and crossing your legs. Each photo you took was a masterpiece, amplifying your beauty by tenfold. But out of each one, it was the very first one that felt real, authentic to you. The others you were playing sexy up, trying to get the best fuck me look going, but it felt too artificial for your taste. It was the first one, the one where your eyes were dilated, where your nipples perked beneath the fabric, where your thighs trembled that made you feel like a God. It was a no brainer that this is what Yukio and Nega were getting, there was no way around it now. Clicking the share icon in your camera roll, you clicked on the first green bubble, eyes blurred from how excited you were about this risky photo. I’d be a lot tougher with claws.

You sent off the cheeky message without a second more thought to it, locking your phone instantly. As you tossed the device on your bed, you put on the silk bathrobe hanging off of the corner of your mirror, wrapping yourself up quickly. All that thirst-trapping made you thirsty, the dry mouth you were getting was too much for you. As you opened your bedroom, making it around to your kitchen of your apartment, you opened your fridge up quickly to grab a water bottle. The cold plastic in your hand brought you back to Earth, your body coming back into itself as your reality started to slip back in. The cap was popped off easily by you, finding its way across the quartz top. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you let them wrap around the opening, gulping down the cold liquid. It felt nice with how hot you felt, bringing your internal temperature back down as your mind cleared.

Ding. The tone of your phone going off made you stop drinking, catching your breath as you swallowed down the water. So lost in bringing yourself back to the present time, you forgot you had messaged the chat. You screwed the lid back onto the bottle as you set it on the countertop, promising to come back to it. As you made your way elegantly back to your room, that pull of nausea and nerves made you stop. Your stomach churned as you stood in the doorway, the threshold keeping you upright. That same feeling from earlier was back as you put on the lingerie, not knowing why you felt so nervous and scared all of a sudden. It made you confused, weary as to what your body was trying to tell you. It’s just Yukio and Nega, why are you being so flighty? Groaning to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you made your way back to your bed.

Plopping down onto the duvet, you sprawled out on your stomach as you grabbed your phone, using your face ID to unlock it. Yes you would. Colors look good on you. You cocked a brow at the message, reading the lines over and over again. It didn’t sound like Nega or Yukio to be so short-worded. Usually, they would send a plethora of emojis before screaming in all caps. But that was just the thing, your last message open wasn’t to the group chat, but one individual instead. It all made sense now, why you felt so scared and nervous. Your eyes went wide as you read the contact’s name, not seeing your groupchat. No, instead it read Logan. It wasn’t the groupchat that received the photo, it was him.

You screamed as you threw your phone across the floor, palms shaking as you sat up silently. The noise in your brain was too loud to focus, the intake of your breath and blood pulsing through your ears made everything too much. Anxiety was sitting in the back of your throat, threatening to spill your stomach out. You scrambled across the floor on your hands and knees to grab your phone, still unlocked from a few moments ago. Shaky fingers worked to unsend the photo, blessing the tech gods for that feature. You were too anxious to type, opting for speech to text instead. “I’m so sorry about that! I meant to send that to Nega and Yukio.” Seeing the wording typed out didn’t feel right, as weird as that sounded. Admitting it felt like a sin, more so than sending a sexy photo to The Wolverine. After all, wasn’t this your endgame anyways? It’s not like you haven’t deep infatuated with him since he became Wade’s friend, since you started hanging around him a lot more. Wasn’t it you who stated that by the end of the year, you’d kiss him? Wasn’t it you who said you would fight tooth and nail to make him yours?

Being sucked into your mind by your thoughts caused you to delay in sending your message, instead removing the text with your finger to completely disappear. Ding. Right as you were thinking of your response, you saw another message come through from Logan, one you didn’t anticipate. Put it back. Now. There was no way he said that, right? Oh, but there was. As your eyes shook from excitement, nervousness, and fear you could make out the small letters of Logan’s message, feeling his desire through the text. He wasn’t a big texter, he even said that himself – but to see him say more than two words was insane to you, even now when he was clearly enamored with you. There was no right or wrong way to reply, but no words you could think of held a light to the dominance Logan is showing.

Incoming FaceTime Call: Logan. The red and green buttons at the bottom made you stir, wondering if it would be a good idea to answer. This was one of his favorite ways to communicate, to see how things were going and what you were up to. Granted they never lasted more than two minutes because Wade would always hijack it but still – the little slivers of time you got with Logan was special. This time around though? It felt wired, like if you answered you’d get the shock of a lifetime. But what was life without a little self-indulgence? Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you fixed a few strands of your hair, pulling your robe a bit tighter around your chest as you sat back against the bed, letting your butt hit the floor as you got comfortable. Dragging your thumb along the green answer button, you positioned your phone a few inches away from your face, enough to get your collarbone up in the shot. A slow, pregnant pause caused by your phone’s connection delayed seeing Logan. But once it came to be, you were taken aback.

The dark of the early night was cresting behind his head, the sun starting to descend into the horizon. His eyes glittered against the holiday lights, causing your heart to swell. Once he looked back down at the camera, he couldn’t help himself but by staring at you, a small smile threatening to take over his lips. “Hey,” he let out with an airy breath, the slight chill of the night causing it to puff out. You felt yourself suck in a breath, the energy already charged. Reflecting his own smile, you sent your own through your phone as you waved. “Hi.” Usually you were a lot more talkative, teasing him to make him smile but – none of that felt right in this moment. Even with seeing his face on your screen, you could tell he was hiding something – not really saying what he wanted to. His eyes were black against the horizon behind him, no sight of hazel coming through.

“How’re you?” You managed to let out, your voice lower than usual as you let your legs stretch out, leaning further back against the side of the bed. Logan didn’t miss a second of your movements as he walked down the street, the light bustling of cars filling the sound barrier. From the buildings behind him, you could see he was downtown, more than likely heading to the bar for a quick drink. You silently wished he asked to meet you there, to hang out privately for once. But that playful glint in his pupils told a different story as he rounded the corner, staring down at you. “Did Wade tell you about my suit?”

Logan asked with a slight smirk, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he watched for your reaction. Cocking a brow in his direction you tried to understand what he was asking, not sure what suit he meant. You knew that Logan was The Wolverine, it was no secret. But you never saw his suit, only meeting him a week after he jumped into your timeline. Shaking your head at his question, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing on the skin to help combat the butterflies in your stomach. The swishing of your hair from side-to-side aiding in cooling you down. “Then what made you choose yellow and blue?” His smirk never let off as he asked, prying. He wanted to fully talk about the photo, he wanted to see if it was truly accidental or planned. Your mouth went dry when he asked, not having a concrete answer for why you chose that color scheme. Shrugging you tightly laughed, releasing your lip as you focused on your mirror. “I thought it was a pretty combination.”

Pretty, by association it was like you were calling Logan pretty. Even if you didn’t know about his original suit, still he associated himself with those colors. Logan mirrored how you were before, pulling his own bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckled. Struggling for a moment, Logan managed to flip his camera around to pan at his legs – the clean yellow and blue pants is all he had to remember his original suit. It caused your heartrate to pick up again, hammering in your chest as you got a brief glimpse at his clothed crotch. It took every fiber of your being to contain yourself, to hide the whimper clawing up the back of your throat. Lost in thought of what he could be hiding under there you didn’t notice how the screen flashed a few times – a text bubble popping up you couldn’t focus on. Logan took screenshots of your reaction.

The camera flipped back to Logan’s face, the heat cresting its way up your neck as you stared at him, your own pupils blown out.  “Do you still think so?” He teased, dropping his voice down a few octaves. You could tell he was wearing his headphones to talk, making it more intimate for him to hear than everyone else. It sent your body up in flames at how you could say anything, and it would be only for Logan. “More than ever before.” It was a no-brained response, you didn’t have to think in order to speak. Your mind was already as alert as it was going to be, the filter around Logan you had previously no longer existed on this call. Logan stopped his walking to stare down at you, narrowing his eyes with a genuine smile as he licked his lips, nodding to himself.

Logan jutted his chin out towards the camera as he started to walk up another well-lit street, never taking his eyes off the camera. “You wanna show me what my colors are hiding under there?” He nodded towards your bathrobe, a sliver of the bra showing against the fur collar. There was one of two ways this could’ve gone, either play into it or shy away. This was clearly an attempt from Logan to see how far you’d want to go with him, really a test for if this was accidental. Mutual pining after one another for so long burnt you both out, so if it kept going there would be no tell when it would stop. The power was now in your hands, there wasn’t much else you could play with. Putting on your best innocent eyes, you let the pretty little smile fall to your mouth, puffing your lower lip out slightly. “Dunno – you sure you can handle it?” Game on.

The sassy tone you let on with your question had Logan’s pants tightening, his breath coming out in sharp bursts as he tried to control himself. Having animalistic tendencies meant that anytime he was aroused, he needed to stake his claim. Show the world who you belong to, who his mate was. Even if you didn’t know, he did. He could smell it on you any time you went past him, or when you looked at him. In another life, in another world you were his – and he planned to make you his on Earth-10005 as well. Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Logan snorted as he stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against the brick wall of one of the local pubs. “I can handle you, missy.” Logan hissed, letting his eyes go naturally wide to signify how serious he was. The low growl seeping up from his throat made your body shiver, made your fingers work slowly to undo the ties on your bathrobe. “Don’t get it twisted.”

You couldn’t help but snort to yourself as you heard Logan say that, never expecting the 200-year-old man to say something so modern. Laughing lowly as you stripped out of the bathrobe, you let a sliver of your chest show, how your robe fell off of your shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrowed in to watch you take it off, the silk falling behind you. All that he could see was the plush skin of your breasts hanging slightly over the cups, nothing more. A weak moan slipped past his parted lips as he watched, needing to shut his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t cum in his pants. You knew you had Logan right where you wanted him, letting you take the control back of the situation. It made you feel powerful knowing he was so weak for you, even if it was for a short period of time. “Ew, Wade needs to stop teaching you catchphrases of the early 2010’s.” You weren’t a tease all the time, you could see Logan’s labored breathing through the call, could tell he needed a distraction.

Your remark was enough to make Logan open his eyes again, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes; The whites almost impossible to see. “Why are you changing the subject?” He panted, standing upright again as he pressed his covered back to the wall, cocking a brow in your direction. You weren’t prepared for Logan’s retort, thinking you may have the upper hand while he was aroused, yet he always managed to surprise you. Sucking your teeth, you shook your head in confusion, rolling your eyes away from his gaze. “Aw, is someone flustered?” He pouted, smiling with a hint of smugness. Your mouth falling open in a silent gasp made him chuckle, finding it quite adorable how you’re trying so hard. The burning across your face was a clear indication to you that Logan was getting under your skin, trying his hardest to truly break you. It wasn’t in a callous or mean way, but more to show you who you belonged to. Putting the phone closer to his face so you could see only him, he made sure he was loud and clear. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle.”

“Fuck off, Howlett.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, exposing your cleavage to the camera without realizing it, your cool slipping through your fingers. The dead giveaway of how he was affecting you came in the form of your camera shaking, your fingers betraying you as you tried to suck in a deep breath. Looking away from the camera didn’t help when Logan stared like he was going to eat you alive, devouring you with every glint his eyes gave. You had to admit it to yourself, your confidence reserve was running out, completely going dry the longer you sat and talked with Logan. If he didn’t act now, he was forever going to hold his peace. “I’d rather fuck you.” It flowed off his tongue so elegantly, never deterring his steps as he managed to walk again. At first you thought you may have misheard him but, you heard him loud and clear, perfect in fact.

The shock written across your face, mixed with desire caused Logan’s restraint to snap. He moved away from the bars entrance and instead kept straight, letting the cold November air nip at him a bit longer. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Mouth hanging open, brow creased with a mix of shock and anxiety, you were going through it within seconds, all because of dear Logan. The confidence, the bravado, the je ne sais quoi you have held on the up and up finally slipping. Revealing itself when the shy version of yourself you thought you buried. The submissive angel, Logan had you wrapped tightly around his hand, reminiscent of his old cage fighting wraps. “Eye-fucking can only get you so far, princess.” Logan knew you wouldn’t pull away now, you were putty in his hands. But he could have a little fun with you, and boy did he plan to. It was a sure thought that you weren’t as obvious as you may have thought when staring at Logan, silently begging him to fuck you. The whole time, he knew.

“You’ve known?” It was a silly question to ask but Logan wasn’t stupid. He’s been around for more than 200 years, he could see through stuff as it came through. He is also very well known for retorting back no but I do now, pretending to know a secret as a way to coax you into telling him. You had to make sure this wasn’t like that – or else you’d implode. Logan nodded at you as the lights started to dim around him, a gentle glow from afar lighting the edges of his face. He was still outside but away from the light pollution, an alleyway most likely. Propping his phone up on the closest discarded shelf near a door, he nodded as he pulled out his flask. “No shit I’ve known, you can thank Yukio for that one.” Yukio, your friend. There was no malicious feelings towards her for telling Logan, in fact she may have done you a favor. But it got you thinking, who else did she tell? Was it one giant secret that the whole group knew, hence why they tried to push you both together constantly? “She tells Wade everything.”

And there it was, the shot heard ‘round the world. It made sense that she told Wade, and Wade blabbed to Logan – Yukio would never face the conflict head-on, it went through a source. Releasing the breath you were unaware you were holding, you nodded into the open air as you sunk further against the bed, a bead of sweat gathering on your hairline. The back of your throat felt tight, dry, highly uncomfortable for your own liking. Trying to swallow was like trying to fit a watermelon into a wine bottle, impossible due to how high your blood pressure was. Now that the light pollution of the city wasn’t creating streaks of orange across his screen, he could fully take in your shocked state – seeing the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “What? You didn’t think I’d feel the same way?” Logan asked honestly, no longer keeping up the teasing. Seeing the distress on your face caused him to pull back, wanting you to tell him when it was good. He wasn’t going to push further; He didn’t want to ruin this.

The chord of your neck worked to string your words together, trying to find the best match to speak. Nothing felt, nor sounded right on your tongue; It drove you mad. “No, but I thought it was a fantasy more than anything.” You squeaked, coughing to bring some moisture back to your throat. Adjusting yourself on the floor, you brought the camera down a bit, pulling it further back for comfort – a typical position for you. Logan noticed though, how he could see you bright and clear as day, in your pale-yellow bra, that you had just for him. The slightly darker color of your nipple crept through the fabric, causing his pants to tighten, but he wouldn’t tease you further unless you felt better. “Can’t fantasies come true?” It was Logan’s last-ditch effort to ease the anxiety rising in your stomach. It helped, hearing him say that. It didn’t feel awkward anymore, it didn’t feel scary. It was beautiful, the start of something more.

“Are you sitting on the floor?” You pulled your camera back to pan it around yourself, showing off your little number as you sat, pulling your legs into a criss-crossed position. “Yeah, I got spooked off my bed thank you very much!” You stated with a smirk, showing how you were teasing. Logan liked how you said it, acting all sassy as you puffed out your bottom lip. It was cute, you looked precious to him. Everything about you made Logan feel alive, like his life was worth living instead of drowning it with the bottle. You made him want to be a better man, to settle down, start a family – anything you wanted he would give you even if you asked. That, is how much he loved you. “Flip your camera around.” He motioned, twirling his finger as he drank from his flask, groaning at the taste.

Obeying his command, you flipped your camera around as you showed him the mirror right in front of you. Waving cutely through it to him, you fluttered your legs as you sat, anticipation eating its way through you. Seeing the softness of your belly against your thong sent his mind spiraling, his eyes flickering to the fabric down further, hoping to God he could see your arousal. For a moment he took you in, how shy you were getting under his gaze. Hell, he could see the goosebumps forming themselves on your thighs, wanting to sink his teeth into the plushness of your flesh. Nudging his head towards you, his next command was on the tip of his tongue. “Spread your legs, c’mon.” The way it rolled out of his mouth like warm honey had your eyes wavering, threatening to roll back.

Slowly you began by uncrossing your legs, sticking your feet up absentmindedly towards the mirror, making sure to wiggle your toes under the stockings. It was a good tactic for teasing; Logan was living for your control. As your clothed claves hit the rug, you started to swing your legs open, letting each inch of the fabric rub against your soft legs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, which didn’t go unnoticed by Logan, reveling in how responsive you are. “That’s it, good girl.” The fated words that made you lose yourself every time, fell out of Logan’s mouth so naturally. As he spoke that blissful name to you, finally your legs were fully open, able to see every little bit of you. It felt good, right to have his eyes on you. He wasn’t someone who could hide his emotions well nowadays, utterly losing it the longer he stayed with Wade. But in this moment you saw the true reserve on his face, the realization that even though he’s in some back bar’s alleyway, anyone could see him. The arousal coating his face, how his eyes focused harder to make out that tiny banana-yellow stain of your wetness on your panties, he was so lost in this moment. “Lean back, get comfortable. Eyes on me.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you leaned back fully against the side of your bed. Reaching to your left, you grabbed at the tripod Nega got you for your birthday this year, shortening the neck of it to sit perfectly to your side. Shaky hands did not make for stable camera work. Something in the back of your mind said this would be the best thing for him; No shaky cam as he directed you, all hands free just for him, it was the perfect pick. Pushing your phone quickly into the top slot of the tripod, you placed your hands on the inside of your thighs, tickling the soft flesh as you awaited Logan’s next words. Beneath the lace, he could see your perky nipples pebbling at the mere instructions he was giving you – silently berating himself for not going over to your apartment and showing you why they call him an animal.

“You’re such a good listener. Don’t think, just do.” You weren’t even trying at this rate, you naturally fell into the submissive role so easily. A commanding personality like Logan always made you fold, obeying each word like it was spoken from God. It’s the reason it made you so special in the bedroom; It’s the reason Logan became obsessed with you. Seeing your submissive side slip through the cracks every now and again made him yearn, a man starved. He could have anyone and all he needed was you. “Listening so well for me.” It was what you could do well in this moment, even with the steady flow of blood pumping through your ears. The whooshing and thumping making it difficult to hear anything other than Logan; The current making room like Moses parted the Red Sea, only he shall walk on through. “Show me, sweetheart.” You felt like you were burning up, from the inside out. Cooking hotter by the words Logan was saying, not able to keep your cool anymore. The husk of his voice, mixed with the lucidness of the alcohol slipping around his tongue made you see stars. If it was possible, you’d cum just from his voice.

Antsy was a perfect descriptor of how you were feeling at the moment, suspense eating right through your chest as the insinuation in Logan’s voice. “Show you what, Lo?” Ah, yes. Your last semblance of control before Logan completely shit-stomped it. An irritated groan fell between Logan’s mouth as he slammed his hands against the wall, the shelving where you were propped up on shaking. His head dangled between his shoulders as he breathed heavily. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” That was the final straw, the endless teasing towards one another had finally broken. There would never be a way to go back from this, and you fucking thanked whatever or whoever was listening. Check fucking mate, Logan Howlett. That was all you needed to push forward.

You pulled at the side of your panties, swinging it onto the other side of your cunt as you opened your thighs up a bit more. The delicious stretch was aiding in the opening of your folds, letting the crisp air of your room lap through them. Logan drew his head up as he heard your silence, a painful growl slipping through his lips as he drew his brow together in pain. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared him for the sight he sees in front of him, the picture perfect gorgeousness, the thing he wanted tattooed on his brain. It was the purest form of Logan you could’ve possibly gotten; Veins of his neck bulging, eyes slanted so close to being closed, labored breathing like he ran a marathon. This was The Wolverine.

The sight on your phone made a fresh wave of your slick run out of your cunt, seeping onto the thin fabric between your cheeks. Using your first and forefinger to part yourself, you made sure to keeps your eyes on the mirror, eyeing the camera as you rubbed your pearly nub. The bead erect with arousal, begging to be touched. A simple flick of your finger across it had your entire lower half jolting. The sensation almost too much for your sensitive clit. Chewing on your bottom lip to help calm you down, slowly you began to make tentative circles with your first and middle finger, getting used to the sensation as your other hand slipped right under your bed to your secret box, one that no one would suspect.

Logan didn’t miss how you rubbed yourself so tenderly, loving yourself in the greatest way possible, while watching the perverse side of him come alive. He felt so naughty watching you masturbate, listening to his directions in the fucking alleyway. If he ran fast enough, he could be at your apartment before you made yourself orgasm, able to eat you out until you were crying for him to stop. No, this’ll do. He also didn’t miss how you reached frantically under your bed, eyes still on him as you grabbed a velvet bag. The purple glistened against the LED strips lights in your room, the multichrome coloring reflecting rainbows against your fingers. Quickly you worked the bag open, trying to grab at the first toy you could reach. Of course, it was not only the biggest dildo you had, but also happened to be yellow and blue. When Logan saw that, girth and all, he was roiling.

With how wet you were, you didn’t need lube to push your toy into you. Needy didn’t even touch upon how you felt. “Easy there baby, inch at a time. Ease it in, that’s it.” Logan cooed as you struggled to stretch around your toy, the burn already aiding in your arousal. Nodding at Logan’s words, you slowly inched the toy within your tight hole, never letting up on your clit to aid in the stretch. “L-Lo,” you moaned out quickly, eyes rolling back as your head lulled. If Logan was anything like this toy, you’d be unable to walk in the morning, you were hoping for that. “What, sweetheart? Feel too good?” Logan mewled as he gripped his tented cock through his pants, reveling in the harshness at which he was grabbing it. The bark he let out made your body shake, the thickest part of your dildo fully sheathed inside of you. “You deserve to feel this good honey, you’re the best girl.”

The praise was too much as you reached the base of the toy, your lower belly feeling so full of it. Carefully you pulled back on the toy, letting half of it out before you pushed it back in. The rigidness of the silicone rubbing against your spongy spot made you gasp, a throaty moan slipping into the night’s air, echoing throughout Logan’s headphones. “That’s my girl, nice and steady baby.” Logan had no idea what he was even saying anymore, or where he was going. All he knew was that his mouth was going and his feet were moving. Where they’d end up? He’d find out sooner or later. Palming himself as he steadily walked, Logan cut down the corner of the alley, making his way left. “Stretch that cunt out for me honey. I’ll fill you real soon.” Looking down at his screen all he could see was your blissed out face, the hearty stretch of your pussy around your toy, and the absolutely hot sight of your glistening body in his colors. “Just keep going, focus on my voice.”

Nodding at his words, you started to move the toy faster inside of you. The grip you had on the base helped it to conform to your cunt, filling in every ridge. Words escaped you in this moment, all you could do was focus on Logan’s face on your phone, watching how he never looked up at he walked, eyeing you like you were the World Series. Cresting behind your eyes was your orgasm, threatening to take you out with one swipe of your fingers. You couldn’t finish so soon, you wanted Logan to see exactly how it was for you. But there was no use, your arousal was so high, you were going to cum one way or another. The small squeak you let out caused Logan to stop in his tracks, glaring down at the phone will his full, undivided attention. “Look at the mirror baby, watch how sexy you are when you cum.” The breathy moan to which he released those words caused you to unleash the deepest groan you could muster, eyes blown out to nothing as you looked in the mirror.

Just like that, like the snap of your fingers, that string tethering you and Logan together snapped. Everything went white. Your ears rang as your throat became raw – yet no sound broke through. The sweetest coaxing could be heard miles away but yet it faded quickly. The world wasn’t spinning or moving for that matter. Instead, it was just staying still, letting you soak in this orgasmic bliss. Slowly the fog began to clear for you, your vision turning solid again as you watched the mirror. Heavy panting made up the sound coming back. The shaking of your body slowing down the longer you twirled the toy inside of you, rubbing your fingers deftly across your clit. Little by little, the blissful nature of your orgasm satiating that deep hunger looming in your chest. “That’s my good girl, making me so proud.” Logan’s tender voice cut through the staticky sound as your breathing steadiest itself. Licking your lips as you let your eyes wander around your room, you noticed that your tripod was a lot taller than you initially realized, almost looming over you as your fingers never stopped. Only that wasn’t your tripod, and that voice you heard was coming from directly beside you.

“Hi, princess,” Logan smirked into the mirror, meeting your gaze as you realized what was happening. It took a moment for it to register, wondering why he looked so much bigger now. Watching the figure of Logan reach between your legs in the mirror, it only clicked to you when you felt his grip close around the base of the dildo, pulling it out of you with cautionary ease. Shivering from the loss of girth within you, you snapped your head to the right as Logan caught your eyes. Smirking, he waved the wet dildo at you, chuckling as he threw it onto the bed. “H-Hey Logan,” you managed to let out, gulping down the pool of saliva in your bed. Nudging his chin behind you, Logan ran his calloused fingers over your chin, gripping your skin firmly. “Get on the bed.” It wasn’t an ask, it wasn’t a question. It was an order.

“Logan-“ you began, but were stopped when Logan grabbed at your throat, pushing against your pulse point with two fingers. The new sensation made your core clench around nothing, pulsating openly as you looked into Logan’s obsidian eyes, trying to make out what was going to happen. “Now.” Logan ordered, grabbing you by the neck and waist as he helped you up. Standing on wobbly knees was not a good idea, but damn it if it didn’t feel good. It took a moment to acclimate back into your body, Logan’s bodyweight kept you upright as you struggled. “Don’t make me tell you again, you won’t like that.” The threat made you want to break it, break him. Playing a brat for him would be a fun adventure, but the desperate nature of your arousal made you reconsider. Yet you were naturally doing it, and Logan was going to love punishing you later. “Very good girl.” Logan praised as you slowly sat back onto the bed, letting the silky material of the duvet caress your body.

How did he get in here? That was a question crossing your mind, nothing else but how. He wasn’t there all the time and you knew it, remembering that you were FaceTiming him. Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the bedroom door, you thankfully had a clear view to your front door, seeing that it was shut but – not quite perfect anymore. A smirk laid across your lips as you noticed the claw marks on the door, specifically around the doorknob, you assumed on both sides. Plus, the small splinter on top of his hand that he is currently picking out was enough tell for you. Logan had used his claws to unlock your door and get into your apartment. He was never going to the bar, this entire time he was walking to your apartment. It made sense now. This whole time he was coming to make you his. The revelation caused you to whimper out of pure love, no longer lust. Of course though, that didn’t last long. For what you saw next, shook you to your core.

Standing in between your legs was Logan fucking Howlett. The Wolverine. No longer did he wear his TVA jacket he was given earlier this year, but instead stood shirtless over you. The sweat on his body caused his chiseled physique to glisten in your room, his natural musk making your hornier by the second. His pants you had seen earlier of the same color scheme you are wearing, brushing wonderfully against your baren thighs. The reinforced nylon feeling like silk across your skin. Panning your eyes up to his hands, slowly Logan started to release his claws, inch by inch. A pained expression crossed across his mouth at the extension, but he fucking loved it. Why can I only see half of his face? As your eyes made their way upwards, no longer could you see his darkened eyes, instead replaced with something that shouldn’t have been considered hot. Across his eyes, around the top of his head was The Wolverine cowl, complete with, as Wade called them, blowjob handles. The animal himself, standing right between your legs.

You sunk back slowly on your elbows, stretching your legs open wider to fit all of him. Biting your lip, you looked up at Logan between your lashes, panting like a bitch in heat as you take him all in. “You want to see the real power yellow and blue really holds?” He growled, lightly tracing the dull edge of his claws against your sides. Yes, you do. Needless to say, this was the start of you wearing his colors, especially if this would happen every time.

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the Supernatural

Basically some Marvel interactions with supernatural creatures. I think he would be really friendly with some and, you know, not as friendly to others.

Marvel: “Sorry, guys. I gotta head out early.”

Flash: “Dude, why? I wanna see a drunk Marvel!”

Aquaman: “Cap, what would it take for you to accept even one invitation for drink?”

Marvel: “Uh…”

Superman: “Cap, you know you can just tell us if you don’t want to go.”

Marvel: “Oh- uh- it’s not that. I already have plans, that’s why I can’t go. I have to see a friend of mine who’s visiting.”

Wonder Woman: “A friend?”

GL: “I thought we were your only friends.”

Marvel: “I have other friends.” *sounds slightly offended before brushing off the offense* “You guys might know her actually.”

Superman: “Is she a hero?”

Marvel: “Oh no. She’s Bigfoot.”

*loud silence*

GL: “What…?”

Marvel: “She’s Bigfoot, but she prefers when I call her Rhonda. She’s a very classy lady.” *nods head* “We get tea every time she’s in town.”

*another loud silence*

Aquaman: “Buddy…” *puts hand on Marvel’s shoulder* “If you really don’t want to hang out with us that badly, you can just tell us. You don’t have a make up an excuse like that.”

Marvel: *visibly tenses at being called a liar* “I’m not a liar guys.” *shrugs off hand and shoves own hand into pocket dimension and starts rummages, looking for something*

JL: *horrified for a solid three seconds when they see half of Marvel’s arm disappear*

Marvel: *pulls photo from pocket dimension* “Look!” *shows photo of him at a table that looks comically small compared to him, also holding a tea cup too small for an 8ft tall man. Also shows Bigfoot in a very elegant sundress also sitting at the table, also making it look comically small while also holding a teacup that also looks too small for it*

*loudest silence*

GL: “Why are you casually just friends with Bigfoot? How do you just fail to mention things like this??”

or

Batman: “Marvel, why did you put in a notice for leave?”

Marvel: “I thought I put sick leave?”

Batman: “No… You just sent in an email that said, “I’ll be gone for a week” and that’s it.”

Marvel: “Oh. My bad. Well, I’m gonna be gone for a week cause I’m going Wendigo hunting with a couple buddies of mine.”

Batman: “Wendigo. Like the evil, man eating spirit.” *raises brow as if it’s noticeable from under his cowl*

Marvel: “Yeah! It’s kinda like big game hunting, but for people with magic. Plus, they’re kinda starting to become a problem up North. Wanna come?”

Batman: “I don’t have magic.”

Marvel: *shrugs* “You’re Batman. You could probably figure out a way. But even then, we’d be happy to have you.”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: I’ll think about it.)

or

Flash: “Dude, you’re sulking. You never sulk! Something’s wrong.”

Marvel: “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m mad at Satan.”

Flash: “Me too, bro me too.” *pats shoulder* “What’d the devil do to you?”

Marvel: “He cheated at poker!”

Flash: “You gamble— I see. So you’re down on your luck at casinos.”

Marvel: “No, like literally! He hid a card up his furry sleeve!”

Flash: *blinks rapidly trying to process that whole statement* “Oh. Uh- you could always disinvite him.”

Marvel: “I guess. But he’s my friend.”

Flash: “Why can you confidently say you’re friends with the devil?”

Marvel: *ignores his question* “What if that hurts our friendship?”

Flash: “Maybe try talking to him about it…?”

Marvel: “That’s actually… a pretty good idea! Thanks, Flash!” *hops up and speeds off to where Flash can assume is literal hell*

[crheativity]

Hello! I saw your writing about track club members, spell drive members, basketball members getting kissed on the cheek after playing a game, so could I request the same, but after a show for the pop music club people?

SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?

WARNINGS: Might be slightly out of character (particularly Kalim and Cater) but I have Opinions about those two. Also, Sebek yells at you.

COMMENTS: Hey! Sorry this took me a while to get to hehe. I love this idea! I don’t write for these characters enough hehe. Also, hope you don’t mind but I added the Equestrian club too because I felt like it :) If you'd like to read part 1 with the track club, spell drive club and basketball club members, click here.

This could go a couple different ways, depending on the setting. On the one hand, he’s ecstatic that you kissed him! That means you like him, right? On the other hand, you just kissed him. His heart is pounding and he wants to hide in his room, especially if others saw it. He likes you a lot, but a kiss implies a whole lot of things he isn’t fully certain he’s ready for. If you look for him afterwards - after the kiss, the people have all gone, hiding in his room - he might just show you a new side to himself. A new reflection of the diamond - one that’s imperfect, but dedicated to you.

Ohhh wow, you just kissed him, huh? He’s been kissed by his family and stuff before but this feels… different. In a good way! He’s never kissed a homie before, he wonders if it’s a cultural thing where you’re from. Definitely unrelated but this adrenaline from the show is lasting much longer than anticipated. It was fading after the show, but now it’s back, haha. He wonders why? Maybe he’ll go talk to Jamil about it. Although, maybe - if it’s not insensitive or something - you could give him another kiss first?

Awwh, aren’t you a cutie! Fufufu, he might just have to sneak you into more of his shows from now on! Lilia is thoroughly delighted and amused. It’s so adorably sweet that you thought to kiss him - exactly why he likes you! He’s another one that would demand your presence for every concert he performs in from now on. Often before you find him after the show, he’ll tap you on the shoulder and kiss you on the cheek before you can kiss him. He vanishes into the crowd again afterwards though - a little game of hide and seek never hurt anyone, right~?

WHAT. What did you just do-?! That was a rhetorical question, he knows what you just did, but- but wHY. His mind is racing, trying to figure out why you’d do such a thing, if it was against the rules, if there was a way he was “supposed” to react. But that’s very hard to do when his stupid brain keeps replaying the- the action in his head repeatedly. Congratulations, you’ve broken him. All he knows now is that he really wants you to come to the next meet, and the next, until you both graduate. Good luck getting him to admit that or tell you when they are, though!

He is now wide awake. Externally, he looks relatively composed, but internally he’s going ??? Did he dream that??? Was that real or fake? Gosh, he hopes it was real. He’s extra kind to you for the rest of the day, but as soon as he’s back at Diasomnia he’s asking Lilia if that really happened. Lilia is in astonishment that his son can’t remember if you actually kissed him, but the idea that Silver likes you so much that he can’t tell if a kiss from you is a perfect dream or a shocking reality is adorable to him! He’s setting you two up now. Be prepared for more Lilia (and Silver) in your life.

He is CAUSING a SCENE. That has to be against some kind of rule! He’s certain you’re trying to distract him from his training, or— or from protecting Malleus! Yes! That must be it! You are a HAZARD to the cause— why are you grinning. THIS ISN’T FUNNY. HE IS NOT BLUSHING. HE IS ANGRY. (you can absolutely tell the difference, he’s bright pink). Sebek is convinced you’re causing a scene - but he’s the one who stopped in the middle of the celebration just to yell at you. Everyone there thinks it’s really funny (barring Riddle who’s just about done with this whole scenario and Silver who fell asleep).

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[nottysnake]

like real lovers do

☆pairing: theodore nott x reader

★wc: 1.7k

☆genre: fluff, angst

★summary: theodore keeps getting into fights and you need to know why. 

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

loud. that’s all your head could process with the boosted bass coming from the speakers in the middle of the slytherin common room. 

“fuck, it stinks in here.” pansy says, sitting on my right. “mattheo threw the party this time. what do you expect, no weed?”i say. pansy snorts, “yeah right, he couldn’t last an hour without it, he’d ended up assaulting someone.” “that’s not true pans and you know it. that “someone” would be dead, not injured,” mattheo says, coming up from behind the couch we are sitting on, arm wrapped around theodore’s broad shoulders. i look up and see theo, finally seeing his face up close and not from across the room. “woah what the fuck happened to your face?” the flashing green lights can’t mask the big purple, swelling bruise forming on the bottom left of his jaw. i quickly sit up on my knees, turning to face theo while leaning against the back of the velvet dark green couch, courtesy of mr. malfoy.

 i reach up and carefully place my hand on the unaffected side of theo’s jaw. it’s a nasty looking bruise, but all i can think about is how close i am to theo and the fact that the minty gum he is chewing is causing my mouth to water. “nothing.” he says while grabbing the palm of my hand. “liaaaaaar” pansy and matt say in unison. pansy gets up “alrighty, i’m not getting involved in this one, good luck nott.” she says while leaving, quickly making her exit. i narrow my eyes at theodore, who is currently smirking. mattheo unwraps his arm from theo’s shoulder. “as much as i like when you rip him a new one, i somehow always get yelled at too, so i am just gonna…” mattheo drifts off, leaving us, and the bruise, alone. 

“why won’t you stop.” “stop what, piccolo?” his voice is raspy. i can now distinguish  the faint smell of weed and firewhisky. he must’ve started chewing gum before they came up to us, he knows i hate firewhisky.  my heart stops for a second and my eyes soften at the name he uses for me. he rounds the couch to sit on my right, never letting go of my hand. i shift towards him still on my knees, leaning towards his jaw to get a better look. “you can’t call me that when you’re in trouble” i say frowning. taking my hand back and placing them on my lap, looking down trying to figure out what to say.  yeah, i get upset when matty gets hurt when he fights someone for talking shit during a quidditch match. or when draco and potter get into it for whatever merlinforsaken reason. but when it’s theo, it's completely different. my heart feels like it physically stops and my lungs stop working. my chest tightens and my eyes blur.

“what's wrong pico-”

 “you know what’s wrong, i hate when you do this.” i whine. “it's too frequent now, you got detention for fighting with pucey the other day, you’re making them every week practically. your eye JUST healed and now you have to wait on your jaw to get better. i just don’t ge-” im swiftly cut off my being pulled into his side. maneuvering my legs to be splayed out over his instead of towards him. his left hand is now rubbing my back, while his other is holding my head, i close my eyes and sigh while i feel his lips against the top of my head “im sorry, baby”  i lean in closer, finding shelter in the crook of his neck. “then tell me why, you never tell me what happens, just that you beat the shit out of these people and that you’re sorry. don’t i deserve more than that if you're gonna continue making this a habit and making me sad every time i see another mark on you?” 

it's his turn to sigh now, “stop looking too much into it.”

 with that, i get up from the very comfy and warm seat that is his lap, and walk away. weaving in and out of people who are very drunk and probably very high. i’m getting bumped into by people and the dress i am wearing, that is already very short, is getting slowly higher and higher due to the amount of dancing drunk idiots run into me, riding it up. i can hear theo telling people to fuck off or get the fuck out of the waymeaning he is catching up. however, i am able to weave in and out faster than him. reaching the stairs, i get ready to ascend the ones to the right which leads to the girls dormitories, but i am grabbed by the waist before i can even make the first step. i gasp and tense , but a quick look down confirmed it is theo by the watch he is wearing that i got him for christmas two years ago. dang it, he caught up.

i relax, letting him now lead me up the stairs on the left, probably to his dorm room. he is still behind me, and his arm is still around my waist. each step we take, the closer i feel his body on mine, and the more im hyperaware of it. “let me go” even though i really don’t want him to. “okay” he let me go, but once we made it to his room. he opened the door and guided me through. no one was in there, draco must’ve been with pansy. lorenzo and mattheo were probably drinking, and blaise was probably hooking up with some girl who he will fall in love with for the next week and then forgets exists the next. i’d bet accuracy on that one. 

as he shuts the door behind us, he lets go of my waist. suddenly,  it;s cold, and my mouth temporarily frowns before he turns me around to face him with his arms on my shoulder. he ducks down to look into my eyes, “i am sorry piccolo. i’m not sorry for doing it, but im sorry that i upset you when i do and i still do it knowin that. i just react.” his face is genuine and his words are slow, something that happens when he is telling the truth. “please tell me why, maybe i can help.” he closes his eyes for a second and then takes a deep breath. opening his eyes, he moves his hands to my face, cradling me like i'm the most precious thing in the world. “they deserved it. adrian was telling a couple of his blokes in the courtyard that he wanted to fuck you. he was saying all the vulagar things he would do to you and i heard it and i snapped,” he starts, breathing heavily “i didn’t even think, i just went at him. his lads got scared and left, but i knew who they were and whenever i saw them i just beat the fuck out of them for laughing at what he said. that’s what happened tonight. they all deserved it for fucking with you so im not gonna say sorry for giving them what they deserved.” 

“you got hurt though”

 “i’d get beat to the brink of death to defend you and make sure you're safe. i couldnt give a fuck less if i get hurt”

 “but i do theo, i give a fuck!” i yell, my voice cracking while my tears start to well. his eyes widen, bringing me into a hug. his arms squeeze around me and i am home.  

“smettila di piangere amore mio” (stop crying my love).”he whispers.

”i dont even know what that means” i muffle against his chest. his hands soothing me, leaving a trail of heat on their wake. 

he chuckles, “why are you crying?” 

i dig deeper into his chest, “i don’t want you to hurt. i don't want you bruised. i just want you to be okay. i get stressed whenever i think about you in any state of harm and it hurts my heart. i don't care what they were saying about me. they don't matter. you do” 

i feel his lips on my forehead. “i care what they say about you. they cant just speak ill of what's mine. especially you, piccolo”. theo moves his arms to wrap around my waist once again. finding solace against him, i wrap mine around his shoulders. with instinct, theo starts to lift me and my legs find shelter around his hips. the bottom of the short black dress i wore to the party is surprisingly not exposing me, but i feel one of his hands position right under my thighs to stabilize myself against him as he moves us to his bed. he sits down against the headboard, now making it so i am sitting/laying atop him, arms still wrapped around his shoulders. “look at me” he whispers. i shake my head. “tesoro, look at me.” i sigh, tilting my head to comply. my eyes reach his, except they don't meet mine. i am looking at his eyes, while he is looking down, at my lips. i breathe shakily, and he copies.

 “fuck it” and with that, he kisses me, and i am in heaven. he grabs my face, and i feel every emotion theo is feeling right now. All for me. 

the kiss is sweet, not rough, like everything theodore nott embodies. theodore nott loves me, and i love him. and not like how best friends love each other. like real lovers do.

theo pulls away panting, and i open my eyes to meet his. “i love you piccolo. i love you and i won't let anyone speak of you like that. ever.” my heart swells at his confession.

“ i love you too theo.” i pause, then smirk. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t get into more fights.” 

ha, now he's backed in a corner. 

my celebration is quickly turned into surprise as theo flips us, and my back collides with the soft mattress of his bed. he is leaning over me now,smirking, and my brain stops working. “shut up and let me kiss you as my apologies, i can get yelled at later. i want you now.” and so he does, and so i forget why he was in trouble. i just focus on his sweet lips on my lips, and i am euphoric.

[harunayuuka2060]

*MC and Malleus wander leisurely through the stalls, taking their time to explore each one before the tournament, knowing they have plenty of time to spare.*

Malleus: I wish I could have persuaded Crowley to allow you to participate in the tournament.

Malleus: It didn’t help that Lilia expressed his concerns. *glances at his child*

Malleus: They have no idea how talented you are.

MC: *smiles* You're flattering me too much, Dada.

Malleus: No, I'm simply telling the truth.

MC: *chuckles*

Azul: Ah, so it's the new student.

Jade: Yes. Although I don't quite grasp Leona's intention, from my perspective, they haven't offended anyone.

Azul: I see. So they're just a pawn in this game. *chuckles*

Azul: I could put them to use.

Azul: I just hope they don't end up seriously injured like last time.

Jade: *smiles* I'll ensure they receive the proper treatment so that they feel indebted to us.

Azul: *smirks* As expected of you, Jade.

Malleus: I should get going now. Will you be alright on your own?

MC: *gives him a reassuring smile* Yes, Dada.

Malleus: *looking unconvinced, he gives his child a glance that seems to question whether they’re really sure*

MC: *chuckles* Yes, Dada.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *sigh* If you say so, but I will have some of our guards accompany you later.

Malleus: *smirks* However, you can dismiss them if they're not enjoyable to be around.

MC: Dada...

Malleus: *chuckles* I'm just kidding.

MC: *smiles* Good luck with the tournament, Dada.

Malleus: I'll win first place right away and return to you. Then we'll enjoy the festivities together.

MC: Alright.

MC: *stood in place even after their father had left for the game*

MC: ...

Ruggie: You know you’re making it easier for us, right?

The Savanaclaw students: *chuckles as they approach them from behind*

MC: There’s no need to cause a disturbance. I assume you’ve chosen a location, at least?

Ruggie: Of course. If you'll just follow us.

*The game has begun, yet Leona still hasn’t received any updates from Ruggie or the other members of his dorm.*

Leona: *feels uneasy about it*

Leona: Have they been caught?

Leona: *glances in Malleus's direction* No, that's not possible.

Leona: If they were, that lizard would've rushed out of this place.

Leona: *clicks his tongue* Ruggie...

Ruggie: *struggles to stand up while the other Savanaclaw students with him lie unconscious on the ground*

Ruggie: You... You can fight?

MC: I wouldn’t claim that I do. I just happened to borrow a whip from the headmage, and I’m glad it turned out to be useful.

Ruggie: *winced* Don't tell me you knew about our plan?

MC: ...

MC: Yes.

Ruggie: Who told you?!

MC: Does it matter?

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: *sighs in defeat* Leona's going to be mad about this.

MC: ...

MC: Da-

MC: ...My dorm leader will definitely come looking for me after the tournament. Let’s head to the infirmary so you can get treated.

Ruggie: *eyes widened* Huh?

MC: I can only help you since you’re still conscious. Unfortunately, the others will need to wake up on their own.

MC: *smiles sincerely at him* *holds out their hand*

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: *swats their hand away* I can go there on my own.

MC: ...

Ruggie: *turns to walk away but collapses after just a few steps*

MC: ...

*Diasomnia won first place again, with Savanaclaw coming in second. Leona was very displeased with the outcome.*

Jack: What happened with Ruggie-senpai? He didn't show up.

Savanaclaw student A: And the others too.

Leona: ...

Malleus: *approaches him* Congratulations, Kingscholar.

Leona: Huh?

Malleus: You did remarkably well, considering that half of your members didn’t participate.

Leona: ...

Malleus: *gives him a menacing look*

Leona: Grr...

Lilia: Malleus, MC is in the infirmary helping the injured Savanaclaw students.

Malleus: I see.

Malleus: They’re fortunate that they went easy on them.

Leona: *his eyes widened*

Malleus: *glances at him with a smirk*

[beta-therapy]

Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

[vifilms]

❝ SUB!ABBY ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, sub!abby, cheatin (on owen), dirty talk, abby gets fucked, strap (abby!r), hair pulling.

“you have to be quiet, baby. not unless you want owen to hear? okay?” your hands run over the fat of her butt, guiding her as she rides your strap, the cocked wedged deep within her, nearly causing her to see stars. “hmmm, you know maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for him to hear you.”

you never would have pegged her to be the type for pierced nipples, silver barbell with steel balls accentuating the sensitive bud, a reddish hue due to all your teasing. the small tattoo by her pretty pussy nearly sending you into a downward spiral. all of it combined had you crumbling to your knees, desperate to make her come.

it’s why you’d eaten her out the first time you’d ever been alone with her, the second time you fingered her in a dirty frat bathroom with the sight of sweet cunt as her slick drenched your hand, soaking you in her a nectar you thought would only visit you in your dreams. now, eros gifted you with her another time and you had prepared for this. strap tucked safely in your pants because abby would be here. owen was stupid enough to let her be around you, alone. now, the next time he couldn’t make her cum, she’d think of you.

your cock would never leave her mind, you wouldn’t let it.

abby took a look in the mirror again; the one you demanded to fuck in front it. the tension she held in her shoulders was evident when you suggested it but the beefcake in front of you just needs a little coaxing and you’d happily provide it for her — just like you always did.

“you like riding my cock? you look so beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the world.” your loving words make abby clench our your girth, bouncing on your cock. “tell me baby. c’mon. wanna hear how much you like it.”

abby just nods hoping it’s enough but it’s not.

you smack her ass harshly causing abby to whimper as buck her hips, causing a small bounce and the friction on your clit from the harness is delicious. baby, blue eyes are so wide but she knows better than to stop her pace. as a peace offering she goes faster before she’s attempting to speak.

she can’t voice it, not really. she’s scared of how much she loves it, how every time with owen, or any other man, never felt like this. you don’t pressure anymore, not when there’s only pure concentration laced on her face, furrowed blonde eyebrows as she bounces on your cock. soft, muscular thighs trembling intensely.

“how….how do you make me feel this good?” abby questions as she leans forward, resting her sweaty forehead against yours. you take it as in opportunity to hammer into her. planting your feet, before meeting her thrusts and you feel her back twitch as she whimpers pathetically in your ear, her breathing heavy as she takes it.

the eight inch pink dildo with the thick girth is double what she’s used to, maybe more, and it doesn’t help your filling every inch of her.

in a tight grip, you tug on her braid causing abby to lose it.

“oh, did you like when i pull on your braid, pretty girl?” abby whines when you pull harder, her clit throbbing, the pit in her stomach beginning to fill. she’s bucking her hips like a whole animal, meeting your powerful thrusts, neither of you hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“yeah, please don’t stop. i’m almost there. fuck, i-i’m going to cum.” the moment she does its a dream come true for you. owen opens the door but abby is too fucked out, caught up in the wave of the earth shattering orgasm she’s riding, her body twitching as she whimpers into your neck.

he looks like he could kill you and if he does, it may be worth it but you decide now is the time to test your luck. the lame excuse of a man always parades abby in your face just because he knows how you feel for her. now you’re going to make him pay for it.

he’s stands there silently with rage as you smack her ass, looking him straight in the eyes as you do so. desperately, abby moans your name as you start to fuck her again. she sits up, but she’s still angled in a way she can’t see owen who looks like he can’t fucking move watching his girlfriend get fucked by the friend he was told to never worry about.

“c’mon angel, bounce on my cock, again. wanna see you squirt for me.” this time abby’s pace is brutal, her beefy body losing control as you make her drunk on your dick. “now tell me what i wanna hear. you know what to say, angel.”

“yeah? want me to say it?” you nod as her weight drops on you every few seconds, nearly causing you to cum in the process.

“you fuck me better than anyone, baby.” owen angrily stomps away causing abby to turn anxiously, realizing whose been behind her this entire time. the look of horror written all over her face, but then you flip her over, pushing her against the furry gray rug.

“thank you for being such a good girl. now, let me fuck my sweet girl’s brains out, yeah?”